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Chapter 95 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

The after-party at the restaurant has already started, with the atmosphere deep

"Phew, thank goodness. Drinking like this on such an exhausting day will make tomorrow disappear. I smiled broadly and lifted my glass.

"Yes, hyung. You've worked hard."

Gwangho hyung toasts and downs a glass full of soju in one go. Ugh, what a relentless person.

I drank about a third and set it down. Then Gwangho hyung refills his glass to the brim and drinks again. Can you really drink like that? He must have a strong tolerance.

Gwangho hyung just keeps drinking in silence.

Why did you place me here if we're not going to talk?

After several drinks, Gwangho hyung looks at me with slightly relaxed eyes. Feeling awkward under his intense gaze, I had no choice but to break the silence first.

"You must be very tired?"


"I'm dead tired. Maybe because it's my first exhibition?"


Answer me, man.

Gwangho hyung looks at me for a while before asking a question that wasn't an answer to mine.

"Why do you think what we commonly don't consider as art pieces weren't considered art at the time?"


Where did that come from? It's not an easy question to answer, and while I'm thinking, Gwangho hyung answers his own question.

"It's because our idea of art is surprisingly narrow and limited. All history is contemporary history. There is no art in any era we know, only artists."

Gwangho hyung said while pouring another drink.

"Art doesn't really exist. It's just a name given to the works of Van Gogh, Rembrandt, Picasso. Therefore, art cannot be defined."

Hmm, he's got a point.

Gwangho hyung takes a sip of his drink and asks me.

"What does your painting say?"

This hyung really likes asking questions. Unlike the previous one, he’s asking for my thoughts, so he won't answer himself while waiting.

I thought silently for a moment, took a sip of my drink, and smiled.

"What does the painting say?"


"Art does speak, but it's not in words."

"Explain more."

I adjusted my position and spoke.

"Words, or language here, are very clear. They cut through subjects precisely to explain them."

I took out my phone from my pocket, placed it on the table, and continued.

"This is a smartphone. It’s clearly explained. No further explanation needed. But art is different."

Gwangho hyung said, slightly tilting his head.

"It speaks but isn't in words. So, it carries a vague meaning?"

I nodded.

"Some people belittle their friends who can't understand a masterpiece, as if it's their lack of understanding, not the art itself. But this ambiguous language of art approaches each of us in different ways. For some, it becomes a warm embrace, for others, a painful whip of self-reproach."

The restaurant had become quiet.

I was speaking to Gwangho hyung, but the whole restaurant was focused on my words.

The problem was that I kept talking without realizing this.

"Words appeal to reason and logic. But the language of art settles in sensations. Art stimulates, maximizes, or even shatters sensations to convey its message."


I looked at a secretary drinking coffee nearby and asked.

"Excuse me, that coffee?"


"Is that black coffee?"


"Can you describe its taste?"

"Uh... It’s bitter but rich."

"Is that all?"


"Can you say you've fully described the taste of the coffee?"


I waved my hand to thank them and turned back to Gwangho hyung.

"Smelling coffee lets you know it’s coffee, and smelling freesia lets you distinguish between rose and freesia. But few can properly describe those scents. Art is similar."

Gwangho hyung stroked his chin and nodded.

"The only way to describe red is to show it."

My vague explanation was immediately understood by Gwangho hyung. It's fun to hang out with like-minded people. We understand each other well.

"Klimt said, if you want to understand my paintings, don't ask for a description, feel them directly."

Gwangho hyung nodded.

"The richness that words can't capture, and the incompetence of language."

I snapped my fingers and nodded.

"I don't know what my paintings are saying. The biggest obstacle to learning something is thinking you know it. I don’t try to know or explain. The first step to knowing is not knowing."


"The path I want to take. You asked what my painting was?"

"I did, but you didn't answer."

"I'll answer now."

"Go ahead."

I looked into Gwangho's eyes and began to speak.

"A painting that doesn't cut and define its subject as clearly as words do. I want to create art that directly visits the senses of the viewer. I'm not there yet, but that's my goal."

Gwangho silently watched me for a moment, then filled my empty glass and smiled.

"You're the real deal. In fact, I should be learning from you."

"Oh, come on, not really."

"Drink, let's drink on a day like this."

Finally, I had found the answer to Gwangho's question.

I smiled contentedly at my own words.

Art is always out of sync with us. Just as it's difficult to view a scattered puzzle in its entirety, art, being misaligned, always provokes thought in the public. But that contemplation will lead people to a new world.

Through the fissures created by the artists of the era using art.

It will guide us to a completely different world. As long as art exists, it will continue to do so into the future.

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