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Chapter 108 Part 1 - 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

Meeting Monet (5)

I turned my back silently as I watched Lea explaining something, holding her brother's hand.

“A painting that only satisfies me has no meaning.”

No, that’s too definitive.

Among famous paintings, some were painted for the artist's own satisfaction and were recognized as masterpieces only later. But that doesn't make them immediately happy for someone else.

What meaning is there for me if people I don't know find happiness in my work after I'm dead?

Paintings that bring happiness to people. What should I paint?

Walking quietly away from Lea's house towards the cathedral, I stopped upon seeing the forest path where I had walked with a child.

The forest path was a bit scary due to the darkening time, with no one around.

“Come to think of it, I’ve never visited the art museum twice in a day.”

Can I dream again if I go back?

Maybe watching Monet will give me some clue?

The strange art museum, Lucid dream, always gave me hints.

After hesitating at the crossroads for a while, I eventually started walking towards the museum.

As I passed through the forest path, I worried about wild animals jumping out, but it’s unlikely to have dangerous animals on a path where young Lea walks alone.

I cautiously walked very slowly, keeping a lookout, and finally reached the museum. The entrance was slightly obscured by tree vines, making the building hard to notice from the side. Staring at the kiosk on the first floor, I took out my wallet from my back pocket and approached it.

The ticketing machine was still in Korean.

“If I buy a ticket for one adult...”

Then, something touched my leg.

Having been tense all the way walking through the forest, I was startled and screamed, stepping back.

“Ahhh! Get away!”

I retreated back to a wall far behind me, and then I saw Lea looking at me with astonishment.

“Le, Lea?”

Lea looked as shocked as I was and seemed frozen.

Thinking I might burst into tears, I quickly ran and hugged her.

“Lea, when did you follow me?”

Lea suddenly looked angry and made a walking gesture with two fingers, then pointed to her eyes and then at me, as if to say she had been watching me.

“Ha ha, you saw me going to the museum alone?”


Lea seemed to puff her nose. She must have wanted to go again. Well, there couldn't be a more exciting experience for a child.

I took out more money from my wallet and said.

“Let's go together. Sorry for going alone. Don't be upset, okay?”

As the money for two entered the ticketing machine, Lea, wanting to walk in on her own feet, struggled again. Knowing it was safe but still feeling anxious, I held Lea's hand tightly and went downstairs with the printed tickets.

Unfamiliar music could be heard.

The melody was so nice that I tried to take out my phone to record it, but of course, my phone was dead.

Lea, having been here before, shook off my hand and ran to the rock sofa, jumping and looking at the painting in front.

“Impression, Sunrise.”

The huge painting filling the front.

It was a painting of the Le Havre port from 1872. Probably painted by Monet from the Lamiere hotel where he stayed at the time. The small medieval ships contrasted with the cranes in the distance. The rapidly developing Europe at the time was impressively depicted.

The painting still looked warm, but I knew how unhappy Monet was when he painted it.

‘Monet lost his beloved Camille to illness, and then his son. War broke out, he fled to England, and upon his return, his father had passed and his hometown was devastated by the war.’

Of course, if he hadn't gone to England and seen William Turner's paintings, the Monet we know wouldn't have been born. But for him, it must have been a very tough time.

I sat on the rock sofa, watching the painting and put Lea on my lap.

“Lea, isn’t that painting beautiful?”

“Mamma mia!”

A familiar expression. What does it mean? Anyway, it must be an exclamation.

“Lea, do you remember the painting we saw last time? The one with the woman holding an umbrella.”

I mimicked holding an umbrella, and Lea nodded. I pretended to fall asleep and said,

“When that painting appears, we'll dream again. Let's talk then, when we do.”

She must understand the part about falling asleep, but the rest might be unclear to her. However, Lea nods in agreement, still focused on the painting.



The child exclaims in pure wonder with each change in the painting. I smile fondly at Lea's reactions.

Her big eyes sparkle as she gazes intently at the paintings.

I can't remember the last time I admired a painting so purely, without analyzing it.

Perhaps the least able to enjoy art in the world are the artists themselves.

I was smiling at Lea's profile when she suddenly pointed at the front and shouted.

"un attimo!"

Turning my head, I see the woman with the parasol projected onto the wall. She must have understood what I said earlier. Wrapping one arm around Lea, I spoke in a soothing tone.

"Close your eyes and relax your body. It's going to feel dizzy."

Lea looks up at me with round eyes, then mimics my posture and closes her eyes.

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