Chapter 5: (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum
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Chapter 5 (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum
Mikael breathes a huge sigh of relief.
"Phew, that's a relief. Truly a relief."
Brunoff, watching from the side, sneers.
"There's no guarantee Sarah will like this guy's poster, and you're already relieved."
Mikael's expression hardens. Brunoff's point is right. But it's better to prove that we've made an effort rather than going empty-handed.Updated from novelbIn.(c)om
"Let's go anyway."
I follow Mikael and Mucha, who are led out by Mikael's hand.
The Renaissance Theatre is not far away, a very elegant building made of red bricks. The theatre is empty, as it's a late Christmas Eve night and the performance hasn't started yet.
I enter the auditorium with Mikael and Mucha.
A beautiful woman stands in the middle of the stage with brown flooring where the wood grain is alive.
A young and beautiful woman with a mix of brown and blonde hair.
The woman in the lavish dress seems to be rehearsing for the play, reciting her lines alone while staring into space.
"Decisions are just slaves to memory, Gaspard. Born fiercely, but lacking the perseverance to endure. None of us can be masters. But stay strong, as long as you can say this is the bottom, it's not the bottom yet."
It's my first time hearing a nightingale-like voice in reality. Sarah's voice is as beautiful and pleasant as the chirping of real birds.
'She's really beautiful.'
Of course, this is a dream, so it's probably the materialization of Sarah Bernhardt as I've seen in documents. She's likely more beautifully adorned than in reality.
Sarah Bernhardt.
I nodded in agreement with Brunoff's words. I felt the same.
I am a portrait painter, but that's just a means to earn a living.
What I really want to do is become a fine art or commercial artist. In fact, I am more inclined towards commercial art because of my financial situation. Anyway, I always draw when I return home.
It's a narrow basement one-room, but there's enough space to draw.
However, like Brunoff said, there are days when I don't know what to paint. On those days, I look for competitions. Competitions can be a stepping stone for amateur painters like me, so I often submit my work.
My skills are not bad, and I have won a few prizes, albeit small. In fact, the 5 million won deposit for my current one-room came from winning a poster competition hosted by a small company.
But if there's nothing challenging in the competitions, I spend the day watching TV or reading in bed.
It's a blessing if I can get out of the slump in a day, but it usually lasts several days. I don't have my own way to escape it yet. Maybe if I work harder, I'll develop my own know-how someday.
I suddenly wonder.
How does Alphonse Mucha, an artist that most would empathize with on this issue, escape it?
Mucha sits down with a smile.
"I'll take responsibility so that the shop won't have any problems since this is a personal commission. Go to sleep first. I'll take care of the shop."
Brunoff tried a few more times to dissuade him but eventually sighed and went to the back room to sleep.
In the quiet shop, Mucha, who had already started working, murmured softly, "An amateur waits for inspiration, but a pro just goes to work, Brunoff."
It was just a soft word.
But I felt as if his words were a sharp blade piercing my heart.
It sounded like a painful admonition hurled at me, who is always busy finding excuses.
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Chapter 5 (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum
Mikael breathes a huge sigh of relief.
"Phew, that's a relief. Truly a relief."
Brunoff, watching from the side, sneers.
"There's no guarantee Sarah will like this guy's poster, and you're already relieved."
Mikael's expression hardens. Brunoff's point is right. But it's better to prove that we've made an effort rather than going empty-handed.Updated from novelbIn.(c)om
"Let's go anyway."
I follow Mikael and Mucha, who are led out by Mikael's hand.
The Renaissance Theatre is not far away, a very elegant building made of red bricks. The theatre is empty, as it's a late Christmas Eve night and the performance hasn't started yet.
I enter the auditorium with Mikael and Mucha.
A beautiful woman stands in the middle of the stage with brown flooring where the wood grain is alive.
A young and beautiful woman with a mix of brown and blonde hair.
The woman in the lavish dress seems to be rehearsing for the play, reciting her lines alone while staring into space.
"Decisions are just slaves to memory, Gaspard. Born fiercely, but lacking the perseverance to endure. None of us can be masters. But stay strong, as long as you can say this is the bottom, it's not the bottom yet."
It's my first time hearing a nightingale-like voice in reality. Sarah's voice is as beautiful and pleasant as the chirping of real birds.
'She's really beautiful.'
Of course, this is a dream, so it's probably the materialization of Sarah Bernhardt as I've seen in documents. She's likely more beautifully adorned than in reality.
Sarah Bernhardt.
I nodded in agreement with Brunoff's words. I felt the same.
I am a portrait painter, but that's just a means to earn a living.
What I really want to do is become a fine art or commercial artist. In fact, I am more inclined towards commercial art because of my financial situation. Anyway, I always draw when I return home.
It's a narrow basement one-room, but there's enough space to draw.
However, like Brunoff said, there are days when I don't know what to paint. On those days, I look for competitions. Competitions can be a stepping stone for amateur painters like me, so I often submit my work.
My skills are not bad, and I have won a few prizes, albeit small. In fact, the 5 million won deposit for my current one-room came from winning a poster competition hosted by a small company.
But if there's nothing challenging in the competitions, I spend the day watching TV or reading in bed.
It's a blessing if I can get out of the slump in a day, but it usually lasts several days. I don't have my own way to escape it yet. Maybe if I work harder, I'll develop my own know-how someday.
I suddenly wonder.
How does Alphonse Mucha, an artist that most would empathize with on this issue, escape it?
Mucha sits down with a smile.
"I'll take responsibility so that the shop won't have any problems since this is a personal commission. Go to sleep first. I'll take care of the shop."
Brunoff tried a few more times to dissuade him but eventually sighed and went to the back room to sleep.
In the quiet shop, Mucha, who had already started working, murmured softly, "An amateur waits for inspiration, but a pro just goes to work, Brunoff."
It was just a soft word.
But I felt as if his words were a sharp blade piercing my heart.
It sounded like a painful admonition hurled at me, who is always busy finding excuses.
Chapter 5 2 - The Mysterious Art MuseumMikael breathes a huge sigh of relief."Phew, that's a relief. Truly a relief."Brunoff, watching from the side, sneers."There's no guarantee Sarah will like this guy's poster, and you're already relieved."Mikael's expression hardens. Brunoff's point is right. But it's better to prove that we've made an effort rather than going empty-handed.Updated from novelbIn.com"Let's go anyway."I follow Mikael and Mucha, who are led out by Mikael's hand.The Renaissance Theatre is not far away, a very elegant building made of red bricks. The theatre is empty, as it's a late Christmas Eve night and the performance hasn't started yet.I enter the auditorium with Mikael and Mucha.A beautiful woman stands in the middle of the stage with brown flooring where the wood grain is alive.A young and beautiful woman with a mix of brown and blonde hair.The woman in the lavish dress seems to be rehearsing for the play, reciting her lines alone while staring into space."Decisions are just slaves to memory, Gaspard. Born fiercely, but lacking the perseverance to endure. None of us can be masters. But stay strong, as long as you can say this is the bottom, it's not the bottom yet."It's my first time hearing a nightingale-like voice in reality. Sarah's voice is as beautiful and pleasant as the chirping of real birds.'She's really beautiful.'Of course, this is a dream, so it's probably the materialization of Sarah Bernhardt as I've seen in documents. She's likely more beautifully adorned than in reality.Sarah Bernhardt.I nodded in agreement with Brunoff's words. I felt the same.I am a portrait painter, but that's just a means to earn a living.What I really want to do is become a fine art or commercial artist. In fact, I am more inclined towards commercial art because of my financial situation. Anyway, I always draw when I return home.It's a narrow basement one-room, but there's enough space to draw.However, like Brunoff said, there are days when I don't know what to paint. On those days, I look for competitions. Competitions can be a stepping stone for amateur painters like me, so I often submit my work.My skills are not bad, and I have won a few prizes, albeit small. In fact, the 5 million won deposit for my current one-room came from winning a poster competition hosted by a small company.But if there's nothing challenging in the competitions, I spend the day watching TV or reading in bed.It's a blessing if I can get out of the slump in a day, but it usually lasts several days. I don't have my own way to escape it yet. Maybe if I work harder, I'll develop my own know-how someday.I suddenly wonder.How does Alphonse Mucha, an artist that most would empathize with on this issue, escape it?Mucha sits down with a smile."I'll take responsibility so that the shop won't have any problems since this is a personal commission. Go to sleep first. I'll take care of the shop."Brunoff tried a few more times to dissuade him but eventually sighed and went to the back room to sleep.In the quiet shop, Mucha, who had already started working, murmured softly, "An amateur waits for inspiration, but a pro just goes to work, Brunoff."It was just a soft word.But I felt as if his words were a sharp blade piercing my heart.It sounded like a painful admonition hurled at me, who is always busy finding excuses.
