CHAPTER EIGHTY TWO – TOO MUCH DIATRIBES

When Max finally paused for air, Gary seized the mic with barely contained glee. "And now for your questions, esteemed masses! Who shall bask in brilliance first?" A dozen hands instantly shot up, many belonging to elaborately costumed fans. Gary zeroed in on a young woman dressed as the personification of one of Jasmine's own ethereal landscape paintings, with wispy fabric billowing around her and delicate floral accents woven into her hair. "You, sylphlike spirit! Let your query be heard!" The woman leapt up eagerly. "Thank you, oh magnanimous artiste! Radiant Jasmine, in crafting your Soul Gardens portrait series, what specific experiences or emotional states were you endeavoring to capture?" Jasmine blinked, scrambling to collect her thoughts in the face of such an unexpectedly insightful analysis. Before she could answer, Max had once again commandeered the microphone. "Ah, but what is true beauty except an extension of cosmic chaos?" His wild eyes glittered from beneath the