A Rather Special Interview
Pleased to meet you, Mr. Lorine – or may I call you Reinol?
That’s Professor von Lorica if you must know, but yes, you may call me that.
Of course, Professor.
You have made quite the reputation for yourself with your writings down here in London. What is your muse, your main source of inspiration that lead you to success?
My muse? Well, I suppose you simply have to look into my roots as a Celestial. The long forgotten memories of the world above, the lost sky, the distant seas, the verdant ever green pastures that are out of our reach- those are what inspired me to write. Though I truly found my muse in sleep. When I close my eyes, I dream. I see that which we lost. I envision the planes behind mirrors, the amber skies of the sleep, the false sun of the dream. When I sit down to write, all I do is close my eyes, and imagine these two worlds in my mind…and the stories that could’ve been made
It is dreams what inspires you then – are they ever only pure dreams? Artists are known to utilize Prisoner’s Honey. Is this a technique you have adopted yourself?
Once in the past, I have relied on honey and wine to make art. Now however…I no longer need them to dream. After all, what is honey but a way to aid those who wish to dream? I have no need of such thing, not anymore.
A truly exquisite talent! Many would give much to be achieve this. Do you, however, consider this dangerous? It is a sweet apple to bite from, though offered by a snake.
It is only dangerous to those who bite more than what they could chew. The lords of the mirror can only do so much after all. Dangerous yes…but then again, isn’t everything down here?
Truly, there is little safety in the Neath. It is said that even you began your life down here with a bit of danger. Tell me, if you wouldn’t mind, a little more of your reasons for coming here, and reasons for staying.
Let us say I came here for a reason far more different than as to why I stayed. I came here in search of certain fellow who has escaped my grasp. I stayed to carve my name into history.
A noble goal, one many will consider successful. More to your work – it is cherished all over London. Do you have any regrets concerning your position?
That I’m afraid, implies that I hold remorse as to the methods of how I achieved this position. Which I do not, so no, I have none. Though, I suppose I do wish I had more free time on my hands. My work takes me not only to my writing desk, but to my office at my newspaper, the halls of Parliament, and the theatre-rooms of my rivals!
A man of many talents, of course, always suitably busy. I’m sure all of London is as familiar with your papers, London’s Reflection, as they are with your other works. Your membership in the Parliament, however, might escape the less politically inclined. Would you mind elucidating your position there to our readers?
Ah, yes, I’m glad to see that my less artistic endeavours are known to the public indeed. As for what I do in Parliament…well, my role isn’t much you see. I merely got there through more simpler means rather than by decades of political experience that my fellows have. I suppose you can call me a simple advisor. I do nothing more that to provide advice and suggestions regarding the new laws that are to be pushed forward.
An advisory position, of course. Still, you must have your own opinions on the going-ons in London in the Neath. Not too get too political, or to stray much to far from the topic of art, I must ask, what are your thoughts on the Masters and the Bazaar?
Why yes indeed, I do have many opinions about the current state of London, but I shall spare you the boredom and simply answer your question, and besides, some things are best held close to your chest. I admit, the way the Masters run London is not something that I can whole heartily support. There are many things worthy of complaint, but I believe that with cooperation and negotiations, that can change. No need for riots and revolutions. Through more peaceful and diplomatic methods, our troubles can be easily resolved. While I can make no comment on the Echo Bazaar, I will say that it is a wonder for our Economy. Anyone, as long as they have the skill, can easily climb the ladder, as most of us have.
Well there’s our bit of politics for today, thank you. Back to the art. Our own humble Gazette has been allowed to publish one of your very works. Would you care to tell us something about the work? How it came to be, your feelings towards it?
Ah, that one, yes. Well, let’s just say that’s it’s once again, something I thought of in a dream. I was having a particular fascination with the stars at a time, and so I dreamt of what was beyond. I admit, I do feel that it could be one of my personal favourites. It’s neither great nor classic, but I wrote it for someone else’s sake. And that’s all that matters.
That is what we value most of all; art for the sake of art. The emotion within the piece can be felt upon just a skimming.
What would you consider the best part of your art, Reinol?
The answer is simple. The meaning. The intent. The purpose. For every book I write, for every portrait I paint, for every story I regale, each one has meaning, regardless of the way they are produced. What is art but a way to express our unbidden thoughts and desires? Without meaning, our works are nothing but rubbish scribbled on parchment.
Wise words, so close to home they hit for artists.
Speaking of your various mediums, what is your favourite way to convey your art?
Without a doubt, it is through words and writings. It is how I started my path to notability, and it shall be that way until the end.
One last question – as parting words, what would be your advice for the artists of London, old and new, our dear readers of the Gazette?
Advice…well then. I know that many of London’s artists struggle to make their name in this city. Some, because of a dying muse and the deprivation of inspiration, others because they lose themselves to the temptations of wine and honey. My one piece of advice is this: when you find your pen-hand struggling to fill those pages with blessed words, do not use the freedom of honey-dreams or bouts of drunken frenzy to set your muse alight. No. Do as I once did; close your eyes, and dream of something far more better. Walk out of your homes, look to Zee, and think of the shores so far and away, yet so wondrous and magnificent. Set your eyes upon the Roof and envision the forgotten skies. Gaze to the South and imagine the splendors of the Mountain. Look North, and wonder what lies beyond.