Happy his lack of expertise in the realm of expressing himself wasn't frowned up, Kaneda was able to very easily relax into where he was now sitting. He also started digging a hole, pulling the gems he was digging up into his pocket just because he thought they were neat and heard a rumor you could get stuff with them from a local.

Harris accepted nothing less than perfect when it came to his art. Well hell, if that wasn't a compliment, he wasn't sure what would be. Sort of made him smirk as he tucked his egg into the sand. Who wouldn't be flattered by that? He was in the work, so he was considered at least perfect enough in that moment to be painted. Or maybe he was just a good subject. Either way? He let it go straight to his ego because, why the hell not?

Hearing Harris getting lost just in explaining his painting was enough to inspire Kaneda to at least realize that nothing really inspired or relaxed him like that except maybe a nap. That seemed silly, but for the longest time, Kaneda didn't have the freedom to take naps or to even really think for himself. So to have this sort of free time now? To be able to do what he wanted whenever he wanted however he wanted? Well, it was relaxing and he found peace in it. Much like Harris and his painting. He never got the chance to really be a kid, growing up much too fast and having to brace the world before he could pick up a hobby like that. He could try a new hobby, but what fun was that when he was perfectly a-okay with just taking a nap and traveling around with his Pokemon? Er, eggs, right at the moment, anyway...

"I think it's admirable, the way you talk about painting. You've really got yourself figured out pretty well, and the paintings too. I agree on not rushing it. If you rush it, it won't be your best, and why not do your best in everything you do- including hobbies that might not mean as much to others as they do to you." He was done burying his egg then, and lifted a hand to make a point, finger extended in the air. "However, I also think you're dope at painting, so."

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There were stranger things than being thanked for calling something dope. But Kaneda found himself now suddenly aware that there was little else stranger than having described something profound, like somebody expressing themselves or an emotion through a painting, as 'dope.' Well done Kaneda, well done.

Hearing that Harris was a worry wart who got anxious because of little things made Kaneda feel.... well, either really relaxed or like he should probably care more about what others thought but couldn't be bothered to put up the effort- so lazy. He felt a little bit lazy. But he didn't much care. Lazy was a good identifier, right? And anybody who was friends with him - if he had those? - could vouch for the fact that he was lazy. Though they could also vouch for the fact that he'd help them out in a heartbeat if needed. Because unfortunately while his body is relatively lazy his heart actually cares a little too much about people and Pokemon to let either of them down.

"You, Harris, have found the beauty of, not only art but also of perspective." He admitted with a small smile as he finished patting down his egg comfortably tucked away in the sand. "Everybody's going to think something different and there is nothing you can do about it. John Doe thinks one thing, Mary Jane thinks another, Stuart Little something else. Sometimes people have a similar perspective, but I've noticed it's rarely every exactly the same. And if it is, it's creepy..."

Okay so maybe calling it creepy was a bit of a stretch but at the same time, wasn't it? Somebody who saw things exactly like Kaneda did? Not just sort of, but exactly like he did. Even people who could say or think the same way still had a different perspective about them. The world could never be seen the same way twice- it was why art like Harris' was so beautiful and unique. Because you could see a zillion different things, all at once, while looking at somebody else's perspective and trying to see it, trying to understand it, only to see it through your perspective.

He was making himself dizzy... which led him to take a drink of his bottled water.

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"Nothing wrong with takin' it at your own pace, and screw whoever passes by or falls behind." Kaneda enjoyed listening to Harris speak. Not because Harris spoke himself down, as Harris had pointed it, it was because Harris really knew who he was as a person. It was hard to find people who, like Kaneda, knew who they were. Both the good and the bad.

What had caught him off guard was being called beautiful and handsome. Probably because he wasn't used to hearing it. He was used to being called other things, compliments, and insults, but beautiful and handsome weren't the typical words used to explain him and it was strange to hear them in reference to himself instead of being used to describe somebody he was with.

The compliments got a smile and his honesty. They would both remain until Kaneda got bored or his face hurt. "Never went to school." his head tilted in thought. "Not high school, not college. I was raised by women in my city back home. I was a little shit back then..." he chuckled at himself because he still sort-of was given the right motivation. "But apparently they raised me right." They used to joke about it taking all five of them to get the job done. "That being said, I'm not gay or straight... no preference, really." Why that was relevant he'd never know. He didn't even know if those were good things or bad things about himself.

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Seeing Harris' interest in his life had Kaneda tilting his head. Some of his hair fell out of the sloppy bun it was tied up into with a pencil he'd found in his pack earlier. What really had him grinning was the fact that Harris seemed to think he couldn't read or write. "The Kimono Girls," he began. "The uh, the five women who raised me, they taught me all the basics any Pokemon school could have at the time. Ecruteak wasn't so big back then, didn't have the educational system it does now. Most kids were home taught like I was."

"So yeah, I can read, and write. I actually took up poetry for a while when I was younger... probably about your age. Hobby sort of died off after life got rough. Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind picking it back up." His tone suggested he would probably only pick it back up for shits and giggles.

"I could imagine you as a recluse though." The smirk in the corners of his mouth said he was being an asshole. "Curled in a corner, hissing at the sun when the curtains are opened, growling like a rabid Furret." He was laughing by the end of his ridiculous explanation to show he was definitely kidding.

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