You can change what you do, but you can’t change what you want.
While Adrian was far from being an artist himself, he considered looking at the art other people had made (However talented they were) a guilty pleasure of his. Over the years, Adrian had come to understand that when people created something by using their own two hands, they put something of themselves in their work. It was one of those things in life that Adrian could never do - and would never be able to do, either.
It might have annoyed him greatly if he wasn't so confident in all the areas that he did excel. Making money was one of those things, but then, you didn't live for nearly three hundred years without learning the arts of finance. While vampires didn't really need the same riches humans did, there was no rule saying that even though you lived on blood rather than food, that you couldn't enjoy certain riches.
Like a great penthouse apartment to name one example.
Looking around the street now filled with various artists painting, sketching, using spray cans, singing, dancing and various other talents, Adrian could sort of understand why the Toreador loved these people so much. There was a certain kind of peace to be found among them. A passion not easily replicated.
Stepping closer to one of the artists' booth, he tilted his head at the canvas before him. Someone had paid this artist to not only draw them, but to also exaggerate their features in a comical sense, too. Why someone would present their flaws so openly, he would never understand, but then, perhaps it brought them a sense of comfort to have them out there.
Not that he had any flaws to mention.
It might have annoyed him greatly if he wasn't so confident in all the areas that he did excel. Making money was one of those things, but then, you didn't live for nearly three hundred years without learning the arts of finance. While vampires didn't really need the same riches humans did, there was no rule saying that even though you lived on blood rather than food, that you couldn't enjoy certain riches.
Like a great penthouse apartment to name one example.
Looking around the street now filled with various artists painting, sketching, using spray cans, singing, dancing and various other talents, Adrian could sort of understand why the Toreador loved these people so much. There was a certain kind of peace to be found among them. A passion not easily replicated.
Stepping closer to one of the artists' booth, he tilted his head at the canvas before him. Someone had paid this artist to not only draw them, but to also exaggerate their features in a comical sense, too. Why someone would present their flaws so openly, he would never understand, but then, perhaps it brought them a sense of comfort to have them out there.
Not that he had any flaws to mention.