( && threig )

          “ Do you normally come to strangers and
            assume they need help? –… “

                  He realizes how he’s behaving, and stares hard at
                  the artwork in front of him. His face curls in consternation,
                  and chin upturns in pride.

                              “ What’ this one about? “

          Icarus knew he could reply to the
          first question && probably worsen
          the situation, so he decided fully
          against it, the second question was
          a peace offering to him more than
          anything else. Switching his attention
          from the stranger back to the painting,
          he started explaining. This was what
          he was way better at.

                    “Oh, it’s called The Birth of
                    the World by Joan Miró. He
                    stated that it’s ‘a sort of genesis’.
                    About amorphous beginnings
                    of life. He didn’t decide what
                    he was going to paint beforehand,
                    he just ‘went’ with it, if that’s
                    the proper world. The figures,
                    such as the kite, the balloon
                    && the shooting star looks all
                    too familiar while not having any
                    particular connections at the same
                    time. To Miró, the start of the whole
                    process was free, unconscious.
                    The brush merely acting as itself.”

          Icarus turned his attention back to the
          guest as he finished speaking, curious
          about his reaction than anything else.