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Chapter 73 Part 2 - The Mysterious Art Museum

A street artist's life changed when he ended up at a mysterious art museum. DBT,Korean,Novel,Translation,Art,Artist,Slice of life,Poor to Rich,Mystery

Should I go to Jongno?

Whenever I feel this blocked, I have a habit of going to my spiritual home.

Who knows? Maybe I'll dream again at the art museum.

Almost every time I visit an art museum, I dream.

Right now, I'm walking in a suburban area slightly outside the city of Paju. Paju is an interesting town. The old city is quite worn, but the new city is sparkling, feeling very much like Gangnam or Bundang. The east side of the stream is the old city, and the west side is the new city, but for a walk, the old city side is better.

Finding an old-looking playground, I sit on a rusted swing and rock back and forth, listening to the creaking sound.

“I used to ride a lot with my brother.”

Usually, he rode, and I pushed.

My brother wanted to give me a ride, but I was uneasy with a visually impaired person behind me. Not because I might get hurt, but because I was worried he might bump into my back or hip and fall.

Was it because I was thinking about my brother? Or was it just a cruel coincidence?

From a distance, a yellow van drives in and stops in front of a building. The driver jumps out, opens the back door, and presses a button, unfolding stairs from the vehicle. It’s a van for the disabled.


The person who gets out of the van.

Surprisingly, it's our mom, whom I had seen just that morning.

After getting out of the van, mom reaches back inside. Then, her hand and my brother's hand meet.

I run towards them, waving my hand.

“Mom! Brother!”

Was it because of my unexpected voice?

Both mom and brother turn their heads towards me.

Mom, with wide eyes, looks at her wristwatch and asks.

“Junghoon? What about your work?”

My brother fumbles with his hand and says.


I hold both their hands and smile.

“I came out for a walk after lunch, the office is nearby.”

Being close to home and the office, such things happen.

It's rare to encounter family in the city during the day. Something I couldn't have dreamed of when we lived apart.

“Have you guys eaten lunch? Should I buy something tasty?”

Mom dismisses the idea with her hand.

“What time do you think it is? We've already eaten. Haven't you?”

I haven't. My appetite is gone. But I can't worry mom.

“Actually, I ate too, haha. But where are you headed?”

Instead of answering, mom looks up at the building where the van is parked. I see the sign for Paju National School for the Blind. Ah, she came for my brother. I quickly offer to help my brother instead of mom.

“Are you busy?”

“No, I’m free now. Hehe, I'm the boss, who's going to say anything?”

My brother laughs, holding my hand.

“My brother, so cool. Can the boss of a company just roam around during work hours?”

“Well, no, but nobody really says anything.”

“Cool, my brother.”


Let's spend the day like this.

It’s good to work, but from my experience, having time to completely let go can boost efficiency.

I take my brother's hand and greet his teacher at the school.

While my brother is in class, mom and I sit on a bench outside the classroom, meeting other parents. They actively exchange information about disability welfare. Mom, always willing to do anything for my brother, is enthusiastic about exchanging information.

Hearing unfamiliar information pass between them, I fall back into my own thoughts, even among family.

‘How should I express it?’

The reason I drew so many pictures was to understand every aspect of Chopin's life.

I found stories that matched the keywords about him and verified whether they were true.

And what was confirmed, I preserved in paintings.

All the paintings were fine, but that's just it.

They weren't the kind of paintings to be entrusted to a world-class pianist and explore the world.

Lost in thought, I receive a call from Youngju.

“Hey, Youngju.”

-Where are you?

“I'm in the city, met my brother and came to the school for the blind.”

-Oh, really? When are you coming back?

“Don’t worry about me, go do your stuff.”



- Yeonjeong has some experience making digital media art, how about that?

Digital media art. I had thought about it. The art museum of my dreams would have such works.

“Yeonjeong? Where?”

-She did it for a school project, but we would need to work on the quality.

“Hmm, that sounds good. Worth a try. But isn't Yeonjeong busy?”

-Yeah, she can make time.

“Alright, I’ll head back, let's have a meeting.”


I hang up and smile at my phone. Grateful for a friend who worries and thinks with me. After a quick look at mom, chatting with other parents, I peek into the classroom to say goodbye to my brother.

Standing at the front of the classroom and waving at my brother, I realize the absurdity of what I'm doing. Trying to make eye contact with my visually impaired brother. No matter how much I wave, none of the students inside look my way. They are all blind.

I quietly lower my hand and scratch my head.

Then, the teacher’s voice reaches my ears.

“Now, when we converse, we experience nuances in timing. You all know this, right?”

Nuances in timing? What is that? The teacher continues.

“For example, let’s say a man tells a woman, ‘You’re really pretty.’ What does it mean?”

What does it mean? Does he think my brother is blind and stupid? Why is this in the curriculum?

The teacher adds, “What if we say it like this: ‘You’re really… pretty.’ How about now?”

Ah, the feeling changes completely. The latter seems somewhat sarcastic.

“We, more than others, are sensitive to auditory responses. But we cannot see others’ expressions. Therefore, we shouldn’t react too sensitively. Let’s develop the habit of holding back our emotional responses until the other person’s intentions are clearly conveyed.”

I couldn't hear the rest. I stood still, rolling my eyes in thought.

“A change in nuance due to timing?”

I muttered to myself, almost without realizing.

“Chopin, the poet of the piano.”

Yes, the reason why Chopin could be called the poet of the piano.

It was the technique of using timing to change the feeling, namely, Rubato.

“I've got it, the hint.”

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