Ponywalk Art Show - A Gallery of Excellence

[Inkwell]

Whenever Rose felt dissatisfied and starved for ideas, she made a habit of looking at other ponies’ art. After all, art itself didn’t come from a vacuum. It grew like a flower from everyday life, from the past, from the experiences of other ponies and the interaction between them and the artist. Such a method of inspiration had helped Rose smooth out the wrinkles in her own creations. Several of the more otherworldly details of A Single Note were inspired by designs she’d seen in the more baroque and gothic sections of the museums she’d toured.

But now she needed a different kind of influence, something that was still weird, but not quite as alienating and disquieting as before. Perhaps the abstract art wing of a new, Manehattan museum would prove to be the answer! Yes, a brand new city would surely give her some ideas. This modeling tour was already starting her on the right track.

Before she could notices any of the actual exhibits, she caught a glance of a stallion wearing one of them! It took a while for her to recognize him, but she’d seen that stallion’s flaxen mane before, during the backstage work at the last modeling show. Time for her to mingle.

“Well now, fancy meeting you here,” she said, walking up to Glizten and getting a closer look at his outfit. It made her feel a bit underdressed; she wore only a simple black scarf and headband to the museum, two of her favorite accessories. “I don’t think we were introduced in Gallopocous. I’m Rose Madder, one of the models.” She lifted her hoof for Glitzen to shake. “Did you design that outfit yourself?”

[ThatWhichIs]

Cinnamon Love had been trailing the walking art exhibit for a while now, parchment floating in front of her, quill scribbling furiously. It had taken but a moment to excuse herself from a conversation, and though they had seemed offended at first they had quickly apologized and found a new partner for art viewing. After all, they had been an editor, and everyone knew how flighty artists could be, poets more so than many. And so she had followed that amazing, living art exhibit, unknowing and uncaring if they were a part of the museum, or simply a very interestingly dressed patron.

As she trailed along behind the pony she failed to notice that they had been joined by another, a full ink pot gliding out of her small saddle bag so the quill could re-ink itself. Somehow, none of that ink managed to stain the sea-blue dress she wore wrapped around her neck and draped over her back, even though a few drops spilled on the floor. With one last flourish, Cinnamon looked up from her work, a triumphant smile on her face, only to realize some of the other ponies nearby were looking at her as if she were crazed. Finally seeing the red unicorn for the first time, she frowned and made a few notes on her parchment. Walking over to the two, her writing materials storing themselves in her bag, she gave each pony a brief nod.

"I hope you don't mind my interrupting," she began, a hint of Canterlot accent mixing with something more exotic in her voice. "But I saw your lovely dress and couldn't help but write something about it." Cinnamon turned a critical eye on the red unicorn, before offering her a friendly smile. "You two must be models from the Ponywalk, yes? I'm Cinnamon Love, and it is simply a pleasure to meet you."