Art of the Republic-Pt III

This is the final installment.  I hope you have enjoyed it and there is a PDF at the bottom for your downloading ease.

Art of the Republic

A month later, I sat on the stage at one end of Patriot Square.  There were a few other artists present, Halpern and Erzberger, who were high-ranking members of the Academy, and officials including Cerny, the chief of the Department of Information.  The sun was nowhere to be seen, gray clouds piling up over the city.  Novak had been asked if he wanted an awning erected over the painting, but he refused saying that the weather couldn’t do anything to his painting that the crowd couldn’t do as well.  Whilst those officials milled about in the capacities of their duties, Milat pulled me to one side of the stage. more »

Art of the Republic-Pt II

This is the second installment of  Art of the Republic.  The third and final part will be posted this coming Friday along with a PDF file for your download convenience.

Art of the Republic

“I am sorry, but I must attend to this.  I Have to meet someone crucial to the work at hand.”

“I understand completely.  I assume that it will be sometime before I hear from you?”

“Ha, ha.  Yes, back to the hermit’s life for me.  Well, I must be off.”  And with that Milat Novak left.

I was happy to see Milat so enthusiastic over a work, and a new major work at that, but there was something else, something underneath that forced my brows together when I was trying to dispel any malthoughts.  It had flashed across his face for only an instant when Milat had read the note:  fear.  I got up and retrieved my coat before I had even made up my mind to follow Milat, but out the grand front entrance I saw Novak moving across the square.  I had never been one to pry into the lives of my friends, especially that of Milat Novak.  He was the only one I knew who was more adamant about his privacy than I was of my own.  But Milat’s strange behavior had piqued not only my curiosity, but also my concern.  Just as seeing Milat talk about his work had sparked the idea that would perhaps grow into one of my own, perhaps it was this other person, (his muse manifested?), that was partly or wholly responsible for Novak’s new burst of inspiration.  But why then the fear?  What does the artist have to fear?  Failure?  No one could call oneself an artist if they did not have a growing field of failures whose fruit was the compost out of which successes could grow. more »

Art of the Republic-Pt 1.

This is another offering of Laskoc’s fiction.  Considering the length, I will be publishing it in three parts over the next few days.  In Part III look for a PDF file of the whole story.

Art of the Republic (part i)

I took a last look in the mirror, adjusting my tie, then doorwayed out of the townhouse into the unanimous daylight, the gleaming marble facades of the buildings lining the street, the birch leaves fluttering making shadowy faeries dance across the ground.  Four stairs down I nodded to Henry, the driver, and stepped into the car.

“Good morning, Henry.  I am sorry I am running late, so if you could take the direct route through town I should be able to make my appointment at the Hall.”

“I can get you there on time, we don’t have to go through the center of the city.”

“I want to be sure to get there with plenty of time.  Straight through,” I noticed the strange look that flashed momentarily before fading back into his normal expression.

“Yes, sir.”

I have only lived in this residence for a few years, it being provided by the state.  I have not yet grown indifferent to the change in tone and hue of the stones of the various houses.

“If I may, sir?”  Henry looked briefly in the mirror.  I always enjoyed Henry driving because he was not one to often talk to his passengers. more »