silasradcliffeâ:
The Art Institute of Chicago, was a site that Silas quite enjoyed to stroll when he had the time. Every time he visited the museum the older gentleman found something new about a piece of art that always brought him such fascination. Though today, he was finally getting around to visiting the exhibit of Andy Warholâs work that had been in the museum since October, and would be there until January. Silas was currently admiring Warholâs piece on Marilyn Monroe, the colors truly popped, and it only made sense that the piece was one of the most iconic art pieces in pop culture. Warhol had truly been a genius in the field of art, and it had truly been a shame that the world was robbed of his splendor too soon.Â
Turning to the person standing next to him, Silas nodded towards the painting. âWhat do you think of it? Is it any good in your eyes?âÂ
Even though Ocean wasnât exactly artsy like the rest of his family, he still had a great appreciation for the arts themselves. It always amazed him when people had this kind of talent because he himself did not. Since heâd moved to Chicago, Ocean had come to the art museum a few times, always amazed at what these artists were able to do. It made Ocean wish he had talent like that, like his siblings and parents, and it also made him feel simultaneously close to them and homesick, which was a strange feeling.
Standing there admiring a piece of art by Warhol, Ocean didnât realize that the man standing nearby was speaking to him at first. When he realized that no one else was around, Ocean turned toward him and nodded.  âYeah, I do,â he replied quietly. Talking to strangers made him nervous, not because he was afraid of them but because he was afraid of saying something stupid or embarrassing himself in some way, but he was trying to be less skittish.  âHe had real talent,â Ocean went on. Then both because he thought he should ask and because he genuinely wanted to know, Ocean questioned, âWhat do you think?â
















