38. Shadowism
Somin and Junu
The boy in the dark green hood held Somin's hand and excitedly ran with her to the address. Junu made Somin was wearing his similarly green sweater and put on a black bucket hat to hide her bright hair. She kept pace with him, breathing hard.
There goes the non-workout.
When they stopped in an alley in the center of the historic part of the town Somin asked, in between catching her breath,"Firstly, what's up with this Friday cardio Junu? Secondly, why do we look like burglars?" She let out a nervous laugh and looked around.
This neighborhood is pricey.
Somin observed the old facades of the hundred-year-old buildings.
Crooked small windows, red ceramic rooftops peeking at them as they stood on the who knows how old stone pavement.
"We do not want to attract attention," Junu explained.
Junu punched the code from his uncle's PA into the small square display. It was tastefully hidden in the frame of the old doors of the beautiful building, decorated with intricate embossment.
"I don't want to disturb you, but we're more noticeable like this," Somin nervously shuffled her legs.
"Are these like renaissance houses?" she asked.
"Under the facade you can see the gothic features, see? There is a stone fragment from one of the first houses in the city, from that era anyway." He gestured vaguely down the alley and as Junu finished his explanation the door gave way with a quiet "Click".
Somin caught his arm when entering the building.
"I hope you are not tired, we have to go to the top floor," Junu explained.
"So your idea of a fun Friday is just a gut-wrenching workout," Somin said and he chuckled, starting to scale the stairs, counting them as he went.
Somin marveled at his ability to still have this childish mindset and let herself have the old forgotten enjoyment too.
"One, two, three, four, five..," Somin started to count.
...
"Two hundred and eighty-five," Junu finished.
Another heavy door with carved embossment stood in front of them. Somin closed up behind him, red as a tomato while he punched another code into the lock. The heavy door opened and both friends went inside. Junu immediately shut them in, paranoid and fearful someone could have seen them enter.
"We are alone," he stated, staring into the big loft space, styled in matte black. The space was filled with an amazing array of canvases, stacked onto each other. Huge windows with steel blue curtains brought such a perfect light into the expensive space. Tables and cabinets added a homey feel to the studio, even though the color palette made it seem cold and impersonal.
The second floor was connected to the lower level by stylish steel stairs and it held something like a small apartment. A comfortable couch, king-size bed, a nightstand with a modern lamp, a library overflowing with books. All in all, it was a pretty sweet hideout for a creator who doesn't have the energy to continue with his work for the day.
"Wow, it's massive," Somin sighed in awe.
"I have been here a long time ago when I was much younger," Junu said and made his way to the nearest table on which sat a tea set, steaming away with a fresh brew.
Weird.
Somin joined him, her head in shambles, not comprehending where they were.
I know these pieces. She realized.
The astonished girl quickly went through everything she'd learned for the uni entrance exams and yes, some bigger canvases belonged to the famous painter Jeon Jun.
I knew Junu seemed familiar. It dawned on her.
"Mr. Jeon, I left a small refreshment here as your uncle wished. If you need anything else, you have my number."
The PA wrote on a piece of rose-scented paper.
Guess that explains it.
The young boy looked at the feast, hungry and exhausted. A beautiful blue tablecloth complimented the clearly designer porcelain tea set. Next to it were sandwiches under a glass cover.
Aw, with vegetables and hummus spread. The shy boy smelled them quickly.
He remembers. It almost made Junu cry.
The second glass cover had various types of homemade sweets.
You really went overboard, dear uncle.
Mother would kill me. There are so many sweets here. The boy's face shone.
"Where are we?" Somin asked, pale as a sheet. It felt illegal to be there. She squeezed the dark hat Junu had given her in her hand and brushed her pink mane nervously.
"This is my uncle's studio. He could not meet us, but see, we have a small snack waiting for us," Junu whispered to her.
A little embarrassed to show a part of his heritage to this girl, who had nothing more than earnest care towards him. Junu handed Somin the beautifully crafted porcelain cup with steaming ruby tea.
"I'm gonna faint," Somin said to him, overwhelmed by the surroundings, inspecting his chocolate eyes and flushed cheeks.
"Please do not treat me differently, I am..." he started and she put a hand on his shoulder.
"You don't have to explain yourself, Junu, just have tea with me and if you wanna talk then we can, right? Friday fun indeed," the girl said, being suddenly thrown into this intriguing situation.
The pair sat down and deeply immersed themselves into two black beanbags, prepared near the table.
"I remember these," Junu said as the beads gave away to his body and comfortably wrapped around his frame.
"I cannot handle this nostalgia, the heaviness of all of this," he sighed almost to himself and gestured all around.
Every open space was filled with frames. Abandoned or finished work, some pieces well-known, some Somin had never seen. All the shelves and tables barely managed to hold up arrays of colors and art supplies, some sagging under the weight.
Somin dragged her beanbag closer, "Don't be embarrassed for your family. Like, I totally get how you feel. As if your own achievements and desires don't matter at all, but they do" She lovingly caressed his hair, daring to be close to him like she would with her own brother.
The sweet boy made it so easy, warming her heart with such a brotherly love she could only remember from her childhood.
"You know, my mum is an actress, not like a big one, but everybody in town knows her, ergo they know me too. My brother is a very talented singer who inherited all her genes. And what am I? I'm not astonishingly beautiful like my mum or crazy talented like my brother. I'm more than a little awkward as you already know," Somin said gently and Junu giggled.
"I guess god blessed me with being more like my dad but even he has tons of friends and is an accomplished local architect," she sipped the tea and raised her eyebrows seriously.
"What I'm trying to say is we can only be judged by being ourselves. We shouldn't bear any weight of mildly successful parents or crazy successful uncles," she eyed a famous piece.
I thought this one was in the Museum of Modern Art.
"Being consumed"
Somin remembered the tag from a museum when she attended Jeon's huge retrospective. At that time with her tutor, a year before Cholsu made her life a mess.
The canvas was insanely tall, almost reaching the top of the open second floor.
It must be dismantled if they wanna move this monster.
The colors were vibrant, capturing a seemingly ordinary rural landscape. A small yard with chickens next to an old and dilapidated house. A tired lady looking in the distance shielded her eyes with her hands, the noon sun illuminating her gentle face.
"That is my mum," Junu remarked bitterly and Somin nodded. By his voice, she couldn't tell if the woman was dead or if there was some other problem.
Dramatic clouds in the distance rolled over the mountains, threatening her. The whole mood together with the sheer scale made the viewer not only feel enveloped by nature but scared to be crushed by the storm. Gray clouds collided as dark blues and blackest blacks made the danger of the incoming storm palpable. It wasn't your usual hyper-realistic or too stylized piece.
Jeon Jun was known for inventing his own style: Introspective expressionism, which had a tremendous influence on the upcoming generation. Dream-like settings, sometimes almost cliche, were hidden by attractive erratic brush strokes. Not too harsh or too soft, just expressive enough that you wanted to touch the texture. Feel the leaves, dive into the stream, kiss the pretty woman. Aside from the form, young painters love to search for all the hidden symbolism and messages hidden between the layers of paint.
Junu saw Somin's confused stare, "Uncle Jun always said he cannot give this one up permanently, it is too personal."
"I can see why," Somin leaned her head on Junu's shoulder, "I could only dream to come up with my own -ism or manifesto for that matter. Just the pure power of that historic significance scares me."
Junu laughed wholeheartedly, "This one is field-breaking, I know. But Somin-ssi, we could invent something too. We can call it: Shadowism.
The boy leaned his head on top of hers.
"Oh man, you're funny. Shadowism it is," Somin laughed at how close to home this name hit.
"Now we only need a hundred-page manifesto. Something along the lines of:"
»» We are the shadowists, living and breathing in the darkest corners of everyone's heart. The spotlight never graced us with its loving arms so we could never shine. The muse abandoned us and we are destined to perish in the obscure outskirts of dusty artbooks. We only exist to be forgotten. ««
Somin dramatically recited.
"Alright, let us make the first pieces under this umbrella," Junu offered seriously.
"Count all my works in already." And with that, both laughed so hard tears filled their eyes.
"Count mine too," Junu said.
"That's not fair, you're too good to be in," she retorted back.
"I invented it," he resisted.
"Learn how to make shit art first then text me, I'll hold the fort till then," Somin couldn't stop.
...
After the initial shock disappeared, Junu took Somin on an informative stroll and gave her a nice explanation of every piece he knew. As they walked, they both snacked on the prepared meals and eventually decided to paint in their sketchbooks. Inspiration had struck. Time flew by and unfortunately, Junu had less time left than he would have liked.
I would love to sleep over here with her.
Paint till we faint and tell each other stories.
They walked back to school together and parted in front of the building. Somin's head still swirled with emotion.
I could listen to him talk for hours. Somin thought.
The way he truly wanted her to show something this ridiculously personal melted her heart. He was such a treasure. Somin felt extremely sad he didn't know it or see it himself.
...
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🎨Illustrations of each chapter are available on my Wattpad acc, AO3 acc -klubickoArt🎨
