[ lightly, with a graceful shrug: ] I take none. But I do suggest that ones surroundings do a great deal to influence ones spirit.
Look at the Gallows, for instance. [ the name of the island fortress is said with considerable distaste. What a terrible name, honestly. She's already complained. ] It was made to be imposing. Dour. Lifeless and hard. To bear down on the spirits of those who came through it. Imagine instead that it were bright white marble rather than dull grey, the lines curving rather than severe, the entrances lofty and grand, the spaces open and inviting.
Would we not be more proud, to occupy and keep such a space? Proud to welcome diplomats, proud to guard it, proud to keep it clean and bright and beautiful? Or, if for some reason it did not lift ones heart to exist amidst beauty, at the very least it would not make it more weighty.
[ she switches legs, looking back at the limb to clean it properly ]
If it did not matter so, why would we create our Chantries with lofty ceilings? Fill our windows with coloured Seraultine glass? Delight to find a patch of green amidst buildings? A flower in an unexpected place? To see a sky stretching blue from horizon to horizon with a few white clouds like feathers for ornament? No. It matters. And it matters more when there is ugliness in the world.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2018-07-24 06:01 pm (UTC)Look at the Gallows, for instance. [ the name of the island fortress is said with considerable distaste. What a terrible name, honestly. She's already complained. ] It was made to be imposing. Dour. Lifeless and hard. To bear down on the spirits of those who came through it. Imagine instead that it were bright white marble rather than dull grey, the lines curving rather than severe, the entrances lofty and grand, the spaces open and inviting.
Would we not be more proud, to occupy and keep such a space? Proud to welcome diplomats, proud to guard it, proud to keep it clean and bright and beautiful? Or, if for some reason it did not lift ones heart to exist amidst beauty, at the very least it would not make it more weighty.
[ she switches legs, looking back at the limb to clean it properly ]
If it did not matter so, why would we create our Chantries with lofty ceilings? Fill our windows with coloured Seraultine glass? Delight to find a patch of green amidst buildings? A flower in an unexpected place? To see a sky stretching blue from horizon to horizon with a few white clouds like feathers for ornament? No. It matters. And it matters more when there is ugliness in the world.