Chapter 149 (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum
"A diary all of a sudden?"
Youngju hit my thigh and said.
"Don't you remember what Picasso said?"
"......"
Picasso's words.
'A painting is just another way of keeping a diary.'
He wrote diaries with his paintings. And most of those diaries are called masterpieces.
Simply put, he habitually painted something that happened to him or something he saw.
But the hidden meaning is different. If there is one thing common among artists in any field, it is that their lives and thoughts are melted into their works.
Such thoughts accumulate and create a work of art.
Picasso summed up the process of creating a work in a short sentence instead of a long explanation.Vissit novelbin(.)c.om for updates
"A diary. That's a good idea."
"Do you have enough painting materials?"
"No, I used them all up painting the lilies."
"There's no art supply store here. I'll send them from Seoul, so text me what you need."
"Okay."
"Make sure you send it. It's okay to waste time, but don't put down the brush."
"Ha ha, thanks."
"Let's have dinner. I'll set the table today, so you rest."
"Youngju."
"What now."
"Thanks."
"Bullshit, setting a table is no big deal."
"Not that. Thanks for being by my side."
"......"
"Stay by my side."
"......"
There's no response from Youngju. I thought he'd kick me out and scream about ruining someone's marriage.
"......"
Strange. It's not the reaction I expected. I lay down and looked up at Youngju. His face is as red as a ripe apple.
"What's wrong? Are you sick?"
"......"
Even though I held onto Youngju, intending to leave, I said nothing for 15 minutes. There was nothing particularly to say.
Youngju too, just sat quietly next to me, looking at the ferry.
Time seems to fly especially fast today. In the blink of an eye, those 15 minutes passed. As the final announcement plays, Youngju stands up with his luggage.
"I'm going now."
"Yeah."
"Don't cry and wait, I'll come again."
"Haha, am I a kid?"
"Leaving."
"Okay."
Youngju, dragging his luggage, heads towards the ferry. I silently watch her retreating figure.
Arriving at the ferry, Youngju hands over her ticket and glances back at me. I wave from a distance. Instead of waving back, Youngju raises his middle finger, but that's just her charm.
I sit on the bench, quietly watching until the ferry carrying Youngju disappears from view.
Ticklish.
Something tickles my nose.
Is it the wind, or just my odd mood today?
As the last passengers for Jeju Island leave like the ebb tide, only the harbor staff remain, cleaning the now empty harbor. After watching for an hour, I get up and look at the sky.
Somehow, I don't feel like going straight back to the accommodation today.
It feels like returning there would only bring the loneliness of the noisy weekend spent with Youngju.
I put on my helmet, get on my scooter, and look towards the direction of the museum.
Then it strikes me.
"Ah, right. I should have taken Youngju to the museum. Lea went in, there's no reason Youngju couldn't."
Stupid me.
Forgetting to show the things that matter most to my closest friend.
I gaze at the horizon where Youngju's ferry has disappeared.
"Well, she said she'll come again. There will be a chance, I guess."
I sit on the scooter and start it energetically. The electric scooter doesn't roar like a gasoline bike, but I still feel its power as I push the start button and speed away from the harbor, enjoying the sea breeze.
The top speed of an electric scooter isn't much, but it still feels good.
Yes, instead of going straight to the accommodation, let's go to the museum today.
Looking forward to what new aspects my hero, Van Gogh, will show me.
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