Metody Green is a curious individual. All pink and frills and down-home quasi-Southern-belle oh-gosh and golly-gee girl-next-doorness, living in a not-quite-human, not-quite-gendered body and streaked with an evident tough-as-nails survivalist streak. Sherlock wonders if she's quite so singular where she comes from or if most are as distinguished as she. Goodness indeed.
He spends little time speculating on her world, though, comparatively--it's so divergent from his own that he has little to go on. He needs data. No bricks without clay, as he's said before.
Sherlock answers her question with a shake of his head. "I am not a creative person," he says briskly. "In the strictest sense of the word: I don't create. I unravel. On one side of the world stand the composers, artists, engineers of the world, in a way of thinking--and then on the other the critics and scientists and investigators. Art is a form of engineering. I'm no engineer."
It is a sincere distinction. Moriarty was an engineer, perhaps the most masterful, of his art--directly opposed to Sherlock's own, so perhaps Sherlock was always going to be penciled in on his dance card, or vice versa. Mycroft is, too: there's nothing intrinsically pernicious about creativity.
There is an art in detection as well, though not one that produces a masterwork--streaks of inspiration, periods of stifling, smothering block. But Sherlock thinks it a world apart from the sort of lightning that struck Vivaldi, once upon a time. Or James Moriarty. He's lived his life in fascination with that sort of mind.
no subject
He spends little time speculating on her world, though, comparatively--it's so divergent from his own that he has little to go on. He needs data. No bricks without clay, as he's said before.
Sherlock answers her question with a shake of his head. "I am not a creative person," he says briskly. "In the strictest sense of the word: I don't create. I unravel. On one side of the world stand the composers, artists, engineers of the world, in a way of thinking--and then on the other the critics and scientists and investigators. Art is a form of engineering. I'm no engineer."
It is a sincere distinction. Moriarty was an engineer, perhaps the most masterful, of his art--directly opposed to Sherlock's own, so perhaps Sherlock was always going to be penciled in on his dance card, or vice versa. Mycroft is, too: there's nothing intrinsically pernicious about creativity.
There is an art in detection as well, though not one that produces a masterwork--streaks of inspiration, periods of stifling, smothering block. But Sherlock thinks it a world apart from the sort of lightning that struck Vivaldi, once upon a time. Or James Moriarty. He's lived his life in fascination with that sort of mind.