<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%; line-height: 116%;">Ari was out looking for inspiration. It wasn't too often that he was struck with bricks in his brain that knocked his inspiration out of his ear and on the floor. He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for but he hoped that going out and looking at other people's art might just give him his muse back. Or maybe that's what he needed. Instead of looking for just plain old inspiration maybe he needed a muse. Not a muse that he tried his damnedest to picture every time he wanted to paint, but a real muse. Someone he could see not only in his mind's eye but in person too. It just helped a whole lot more when he painted people. <br/><br/>He was at an art gallery with a couple people he knew, looking at old and new paintings; mostly old. It was all the old stuff that he loved so much. There was just so much detail and so much going on in such a simple painting. He loved it all. This gallery wasn't the biggest of places, but it was perfect. It held just enough paintings that he could stop and admire each one. But he was stuck on one. Just one. It was a beautiful painting of a fairy. The woman was gorgeous and he just couldn't take his eyes off of her, not much less stop talking about how gorgeous it was. If he could he'd recreate this, but, as much as he would love to, he just couldn't. Paint her? He could do it any day. But this...this had to remain one of a kind.<br/><br/>"How I would have loved to have met the man who painted this." He let the words slip out in little more than a whisper. Letting his thoughts become more than what they should have been. Not like anyone was paying attention anyway.</span></div>