The Master's TARDIS

It's true that when we think of (visual) art, we instinctively expect to stimulate the viewer's sense of sight. Yet, sometimes visual art can evoke different feelings and stimulate the four other senses.

i think when it comes to my own art, I'd be tempted to say that touch is one of the senses that resonates most deeply with my work. I love to work with a very colourful palette and I strive to make my colour schemes as aesthetically pleasing and visually appealing as possible, see some examples below.

I always feel that people are more drawn to colourful objects and a colourful environment in general, and feel the need to touch them, to reach for them. Sight is probably the first sense that is awakened when we talk about visual art, but that sense leads us to awaken the others. Moreover, I try to maintain a consistent artistic style that could be described as “soft” or “smooth.” Softness is primarily a sense of touch, but I believe that a picture (whether it's a painting, fanart, etc. or a photograph) can evoke a sense of gentleness and calm in people. When I draw, I always try to keep this guiding principle in mind. Hence, why I think touch could be one of the four other senses that echoes with my art.

As for touch and taste, although they are two different senses, they are often linked together. I think the “vintage” feel that I strive to recreate in my drawings might evoke nostalgic tastes and smells from days gone by in people. Add to that the colourful aspect, and I’d say my art might remind people of those colourful candies (in French, they’re called “bonbons krema”), at least that's the vision I try to recreate.

If we dwell on the sense of sight a little longer, I'd like to add that I'm trying to capture the look of those old, “vintage” illustrations from the 1950s and 1960s. (See Mac Conner's illustration below)

A few years ago, I made a series of vintage illustrations for my Ace Attorney 1950s AU! I think it really helped me develop my vision of art and pointed me toward my current art style. I usually try to recreate that "vintage" feeling by sticking with a more vintage-ish colour palette and I inspire myself with the fashion from that era to make it more realistic.

I think that's all I had to say! Thank you so much for such an interesting ask! It was really fun to try and analyse my art under the five senses aspect. It wasn't easy, but it truly was inspiring.

It was the third time this week. Three times in a single week. Castiel was starting to think someone was messing with him. How did it disappear like that? He even put his name on the box, to avoid confusion. The only answer is that there was a pie thief at Sandover Bridge & Iron Company. And Castiel was more than determined to find out who it was.

While coming back to his cubicle, he mentally started to make a list of the potential suspects. It must be someone who knew him. Someone who didn’t like him even. After all, he did have a lot of ennemies at work. He didn’t know why, but the others seemed to avoid him, looking at him like he wasn’t supposed to be here. He even caught some whispering behind his back. Maybe it was because Mr. Smith seemed to like him more than the other employees here. Maybe they were just jealous of him. The pie thief definitely was one of his colleagues. It had to be. Whoever it was, they wanted to play a bad joke on him. This thought made Castiel’s heart ache. All he wanted was to fit in, to be a good colleague, a good employee, and yet he had never felt as lonely as he did now.

“Why do you look so sad?” asked Sam. Sam Wesson was probably the only person here who truly appreciated Castiel. He was always kind with him and they usually spent their lunch break together with Ian, and even sometimes Paul.

“Oh, it’s nothing… Still this stupid joke the others are playing on me,” answered Cas, putting his headphones back on.

“You mean, someone stole your pie again?”

“Yeah, and it’s not funny. In fact, it had never been funny. I know it’s just a pie, and I shouldn’t be this angry, but…”

“No, you’re right, Cas. You have all the rights in the world to be angry,” said Sam, softly. “We’ll find out who it is.” He smiled. Cas looked at him, and smiled back. Sam seemed to ponder for a while, like he wasn’t sure he was going to say what was on his mind. And then, he suddenly checked nobody was listening to their conversation, before whispering into Cas’ ear. “Don’t you find it weird? I mean all of it? I feel like something’s not right… like, we’re missing something big, here.”

Cas considered for a few seconds, before answering. “Hmm, no… not really, Sam. You’re probably just tired…”

“Tired… Well, maybe but I feel like we’re not supposed to be here, like we don’t belong in this company or even in this world.”

“Well, that’s a feeling I have everyday when I wake up,” answered Cas sarcastically.

Sam did not answer. He just looked at Castiel for a few more seconds, before going back to his own cubicle. Cas sighed. Sam was obviously tired, but so was he. He rubbed his neck with his right hand and looked at the date on the calendar. Thursday. He loved Thursdays, but for whatever reasons, they made him feel sad.

A few hours passed, while all he did was answering calls after calls. He kept thinking about the pie thief, and each colleagues who passed by him, was a potential culprit. Cas eyed them suspiciously. Some of them were frowning their eyebrows at him. It was almost 5:00, when Paul stopped by his cubicle and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Hey Cas, weren’t you supposed to go and meet with Mr. Smith at 3:00? Didn’t you tell me, he wanted to see you for planning next week’s schedule?”

“Oh, shoot!” was Cas’ only answer, before he rushed over to Mr. Smith's office.

He was in the corridor, waiting for the elevator, when he noticed Sam looking around. He seemed to be checking everywhere, as if he’d just seen a ghost. Cas was about to ask him what was wrong, when the ding of the elevator interrupted his thoughts. He didn’t think twice, before getting inside. He pushed the button for the top floor—Mr. Smith’s office— and inhaled. Castiel hoped his boss won’t be too angry at him. Mr. Smith was strict, but not unfair. He knew Castiel worked hard. It happened a few months ago. Cas was waiting at the elevator when Mr. Smith bumped into him. They started talking together, small talk, nothing too specific. Then, Mr. Smith asked for Castiel in his office. He questioned Cas about his work, how to optimise the Tech support team’s time, etc. very related-work topics. Finally, after a few weeks, Mr. Smith started to ask questions about Cas’ life. Castiel didn’t have much to answer, so he just told Mr. Smith, that he was living alone in his appart. He remembered Mr. Smith looking at him in the eyes for a few seconds, before turning his back at him. Castiel didn’t mind having his boss’ eyes all over him.

He finally arrived at his destination. He stopped in front of Mr. Smith’s office door, and tried to regain some composure before knocking. He waited. No answer. He knocked again. Silence again. Maybe Mr. Smith was already back home. Or, maybe he fell asleep on his desk. Cas didn’t know what to do, but he knew that he had to make sure Mr. Smith was alright. So he pushed open the door. There was no one in the office. Cas let his eyes wandered all around the room, his hand still on the door. He was about to leave, when he heard a small noise coming from behind the desk. Cas entered the room, carefully. Maybe Sam was not as crazy as Castiel was starting to think. Maybe he was right, and there were weird things going on, in here. He approached the desk, slowly, trying not to make any noise. He walked around it, and that’s when he saw him, Mr. Smith.

Mr. Smith was sitting on the floor of his office, hiding behind his desk. He was wearing his white shirt with blue stripes and his red tie was tossed behind his back. In his left hand, he was holding the box containing the pie. Castiel's pie! Mr. Smith slowly looked up at Castiel, with a finger still covered in applesauce in his mouth. His big green eyes looking at Castiel. He seemed surprised to have been caught. He took his finger out of his mouth and seemed to be searching for the right words.

“Mr. Novak, it’s… it’s not what you might thi—”

“YOU were the pie thief?” exclaimed Cas. “I can’t believe it. I thought it was one of my colleagues. Why?”

“The pie thief? Well, we… we can say that… I mean…” he stumbled over his words. “It’s not what you think, it wasn’t out of malice. It was…”

“You keep going on and on about how important it is to eat healthy to anyone who'll listen, but you hide under your desk to gobble an apple pie. And, it’s MY apple pie!” retorted Castiel, visibly upset.

“Yeah, it’s true! But, it’s actually not my fault!” he argued. “I can’t help it. I love pies. I don’t know why, I just… well, anyway, I didn’t steal them to be mean to you, Mr. Novak. It’s just that you and I seemed to get along pretty well, and then I saw you bringing pies with you everyday for your afternoon break, and I…”

He didn’t finish his sentence and looked down at the floor. His finger was still up in the air, still smeared with a little bit of applesauce. Castiel stared at it.

“Now, you've almost eaten all the pie…” he said. Mr. Smith looked back at him. They looked in the eyes for a moment, before Mr. Smith broke the silence.

“Well, there is still some applesauce on my finger, if you want,” he said, faking innocence. “Or, even on my… lips.”

Castiel smirked seductively. The night suddenly promised to be very interesting.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it <3 It was really interesting to write from a prompt, and when I saw "office," I knew I had to do something involving Dean Smith and his relationship with Castiel. I hope there aren't too many typos, haha

Writing this on a Thursday makes me happy (angel of Thursday 🩵🪽)