Date: 21.03.2685 (05.16.10)
Location: Herb Gardens, Fort Weyr
People: Galina, R'oc
Synopsis: R'oc stumbles on a garden-prodding Galina. Talk of colors, canvas, and the merits of art is had.
It's still a bit early in the morning, on one of the few days off that Galina gets; while there's no real /need/ for her to be poking around the barren assortment of barrels and iced earth that should be flourishing with burgeoning herbal life, she's still here, regardless. The young healer is dusting some snow off of one planting barrel, bundled up to protect herself from the chill — it's not snowing now but it will be soon and there's still a fair bit of snow on the ground from the last fall of it. Her breath comes out in measured plumes of condensation through her scarf, her head covered with another scarf to keep her ears warm. Long coat, gloves, boots, and satchel … she looks as if she intends to be out here for a while.
Today the weyrleader is walking through the kitchen, grabbing a few little bits of food while he passes through to the gardens. The man strolls out slowly, the small crunch of his footsteps on the snowy ground. His breath billows from his mouth, though not at all dressed heavy, he never is. As he steps out he looks around, his eyes surveying until the form of Galina is found. "Well hey there stranger…." He chuckles as he waits for the response from the bundled up woman, though not sure if he's right. "Lets see bundled up….certainly doesn't have to be here….always working….you must be Galina." He smiles walking a bit closer taking a bit of a meatroll.
She moves onto the next, more snow being knocked off another barrel and the healer pauses, only to prod a bit at the soil. Displeasure is impossible to discern given how she's all wrapped up, but there's a subtle distortion at her scarf that suggests her mouth is pulling to a side. Galina slants a look sidelong to the Weyrleader, his 'hey' being echoed back in a more complete "Hello." Not that she needed to look to confirm who it was, but such a thing might suffice to confirm who she is for his sake. But, for the rest, she's simply silent and looking at him, a slow blink being given. Eventually: "I am observing the state of the garden to see if some other measures can be taken to ensure that it will thrive the next time a prolonged winter occurs."
"Oh Galina…you're always working….never a moment to relax for you." The weyrleader laughs and then moves a bit closer to her. "So tell me…why are you always working…always studying….always keeping yourself busy?" Sure for anyone else to ask it would have been easy to answer, she's a hard worker and a dedicated healer. But to R'oc it's not enough to simply say that, not easy enough to say this is how things are. "Tell me Galina….what does a studious healer like yourself do if not working?" His brows raise, though his questions seem to flow when around Galina.
"When you enjoy what you do," she counters, "the line between work and leisure is blurred. I enjoy learning and observing — this, then, is simply an extension of something I find pleasurable." Her prodding is finished and she moves along to the next, more snow brushed away, the plastic tag read, and then the soil being examined as before. Where one might be taking notes, Galina does not; but, then, she's one of the rare sorts that has no need to. "When I am not otherwise occupied, I read. Often, I drink tea. Sometimes, I take Yuri out for a ride. Periodically, I meet with acquaintances." All blandly offered, but genuinely so.
"Oh is that right you read….Kessa reads a lot too…what is it you read about?" The question comes out with just a tinge of interest in his voice. The snow is crunching beneath his feet as he walks to where she had just been examining for himself whatever it was she was examining he just simply looks. "I never got too much into books….as if you can't tell." He chuckles. "Never found what to see…I've read before….I've gotten information plenty…but reading for pleasure….that I never understood." The man leans down and looks at the dirt trying to see what it was she saw.
"Medical books, surgical theories, various research papers," Galina intones while she does her work, eventually stopping to crouch at a patch of soil and do as she's done before. A bit of long-dead plant life is picked up and turned around in her fingers to be scrutinized, a thin crease forming between her brows. "However, I enjoy reading anything I can get my hands on. There is subtle power in words that few pay much attention to. The manner of a person's speech often speaks volumes of their thought processes, of their personality, and of their upbringing." The plant is turned around again and then she reaches for her satchel to pull out a large vial to drop the bit into.
R'oc turns his head slowly leaning back up, his eyes searching her hands then he raises his brows and then he asks. "So Galina…can you read people as well from the way they speak and act…as you can from reading what they write?" The bronzer asks her, he takes his hand and brushes off the snow from a near by barrel and hops up onto it. He takes a seat and looks at the girl puzzled and curious. "Or is that something much harder to read? I myself have a knack for it…reading people that is…." The weyrleader's face having returned to normal for the most part.
There's a shallow rise-fall of narrow shoulders, the young woman offering a flat, "Observing people and their actions is another hobby. While I can reliably ascertain most details about a person through observation, how they communicate is much more important to me. So many do not ask the questions they really wish the answers to, or will ask only the question that will garner the answer they would like." The vial is tucked away in her bag and it's on to the next patch of snow, the coloration of it giving her pause. Galina does move it aside, but the notation is no doubt made in her head. His words are acknowledged with a slight tilt of her head, but the young woman lapses into silence while she fishes out a small trowel from her bag.
"But you…you are a bit harder to read…" The man sits watching her almost studying her, he chuckles. "From the moment I meet someone I can generally tell who they are and what kind of person they are." The man brings the last bite of meatroll to his lips, he chews it looking away for a moment before he swallows and turns to Galina again. "You are for lack of a better word…like a blank canvas….you give no sense of colors…you give no sense of shape…not even a feeling." R'oc yawns a bit then grins. "And for all the questions I've asked…it's as if only a drop of paint is randomly thrown on it…." The bronzer tilts his head and says. "Maybe thats why I have a certain I don't know….facination with you."
The soil is turned, a sample of it dumped into another vial and that vial joining the first — or is it truly the first? — that is in her bag. Galina stows the trowel as well and rises, naturally assuming her characteristically rigid posture. There's just a half-turn to regard him from the corner of an eye, her features still cloaked with the scarf and that eye being unblinking and pale, an odd mirror of the skies above. "I am nothing more and nothing less than what you have seen." Her chin lifts slightly. "Should every canvas be covered in paint to obscure its core nature?"
"But every person is a painting….and every painting cannot be an empty canvas…that is what we start as not what we live as." The bronzer grins towards the young healer and then says. "But it would seem I am color blind to your colors….and blind to your shapes….and emotionless to your feeling." He looks at her coverned and bundled self and then says. "And as people go…I love art…..and not being able to see one….well that just wont do. There is more to you…there is much more that you aren't letting me see….but I've made it my mission to see the colors of the world….and it wouldn't be any fun if I saw them all so easy." He stands up and slowly walks towards the kitchen. "I'll leave you to you work…hope to see those colors soon."
"Not all art is composed of bright colors and paint upon canvas; to say that every person 'is a painting' is discounting those who are carved statues or sculpted clay urns — to continue the analogy. To say the canvas itself is not a work of art can be construed as ignorance." But there is no judgment in her tone, the young woman is just stating a fact as she perceives it without any discernible bias. Galina leaves it at that, however and simply moves on to continue her work with a mild "Be well," given as he starts toward the kitchens.
R'oc raises his hands to Galina and waves. "A good day to you, keep warm." He chuckles and mumbles something to himself as he walks out and then is around the corner and off.
