32. Egon's Lady
Somin and Sion
Somin ended up leaving early from her Tuesday bookbinding course. In light of recent events, she hadn't the mental capacity to perceive the space she moved in. She made herself a herbal tea and just stood in the middle of the room finally letting it sink in.
The shared premises were small but cozy. The comfy armchairs were her favorite and she already filled up the two small shelves in the corners of the living area with the heaviest and priciest art books every serious artist should have. Every purchase had its own story that Somin held dear. They served mainly as a reminder and an inspiration.
Sorry Mia, I have too many of them.
History of Art by Pijoan—all ten volumes, Aristotle's Aesthetics next to them. Anatomy for Painters and many other smaller books focusing on her favorite personas finished the collection. Primarily abstractionists, surrealists, and other modernist painters which she loved to get inspired by. Between them were a few volumes of a more raunchy nature, mainly represented by the works of European expressionists and other contemporary artists. Somin learned to love the explicit nature of the bold drawings and wasn't ashamed to look at them anymore.
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On a late spring afternoon, Somin headed out with Cholsu to the Egon Schiele's retrospective exhibition. After the exhausting study drawing in her sketchbook, Cholsu purchased her a catalog of said exhibition. It was one of the rare occasions he rewarded her hard work.
"Study," he said, handing the book to her, "Your work could use more bold expressionistic freedom," and there was the critique.
Somin skimmed through the heavy retrospective.
"But it's all in German," she looked questioningly at him.
"Well, Shiele was an Austrian painter," he answered, agitated again.
"But how would I understand the text?" she said.
"Put some work in and figure it out, you'll remember it better this way. Do you require everything to be served to you on a platter?" he coldly scolded her, "Are you that simple?"
"No, I'll manage," she promised, hardening inside. She was adamant to read the expensive book and understand what its pages held.
...
Saddened, the girl ran to a meeting her mother had scheduled with old family friends. They were conservative and deeply Christian, having a very cute son a few years older than her. Somin never talked to him, but always ended up in the same room whilst their mothers lightly gossiped and the awkward silence just hung between both kids even though the overly expressive boy tried to stir up conversation every time. Despite the fact he confused the Somin with his extensive monologs, she ended up playing with him in the end, quietly pushing a race car across his traffic-styled carpet while listening to him voicing all the characters including the vehicles.
The hurried girl ran like crazy because Cholsu had stubbornly prolonged her stay at the museum despite knowing she'd get in trouble. Her mum already called a few times, unhappy her daughter was late.
Her mum's friend was well-connected with the art world and got Somin a tutor at the last moment in the year when she applied to her prestigious high school. The old painter helped her build a classic yet strong portfolio and prepared her when the talent exams came around. Honoring her duty every time Somin was asked to come by and show herself was the least she could do.
Somin's blue bow bobbed in her tangled hair as she barged through the opened doors where both older women were having tea and conversing with the son.
"So Sion," Somin's mother sang, "...when will we see you on tv?"
The dazzling boy smiled, his newly silver-dyed hair sparkling in the late afternoon sun.
"There's still a long way to go Mrs. I, but let's hope soon enough," the broad-shoulder boy exuded unprecedented self-esteem.
"That's amazing," Somin's mum breathed out, being a communal theater actress herself.
Somin skipped the tiny stairs in an attempt to reach them and fell right into a flower bed. As if it wasn't embarrassing enough her single stripe cotton bag flew open and revealed its treasures, freeing the catalog of erotic nature to the grass, and the damned book opened on a picture of a woman exposing her pink crotch to the world, looking at it curiously.
Thanks, Cholsu. I'd bet you knew I'd embarrass myself. Somin saw his amused face in her mind.
The small paintress caught the lady's shocked expression as she made an effort to hide the vile picture. Somin's pale knees were dirty from the ground, and her baby blue dress was ruined. With the art book back in the darkness of the yellow bag, she faced the shocked Christian lady and her amused teenage son.
"Sorry, Egon's lady fell out," Somin said, embarrassed and her mum chuckled softly, along with the dashing soon-to-be actor.
"She kinda fell out of her dress too," the silver-haired boy poked more at her, checking out his childhood friend.
Long time no see. The boy chuckled more.
His mother shot him scolding a glance, choosing to oversee the weird interests of her ex-protege.
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📚 Do you have Art catalogs or Art books at home? 📚
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🎨Illustrations of each chapter are available on my Wattpad acc, AO3 acc -klubickoArt🎨
