116. Louvre
Lee Somin
The nervous paintress almost drank the whole tea while viewing aquarelle designs. When she flipped the page, there was it and her heart stopped when she laid eyes on it. The female statue, she had known very well.
"Winged Victory," Somin read the small headline near the design.
I really love this statue. Niké, now we meet again.
Somin greeted the headless lady caught on the paper with her utmost respect. The artwork was a beautiful soft aquarelle with a pink-bluish tint. Smooth yet simple. Ascending, not brought down with unnecessary details.
You are my victory.
The victory of emotions against rationality.
Victory against Cholsu.
The memories from her high school trip to the Louvre came back.
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Cholsu tagged along with her class, of course, he had to. It could be realized only with a full bus—the school had to pay the driver and they needed to fill up the seats. The whole ordeal didn't cost her much persuasion, on the contrary Somin was surprised that the strict artist didn't decline her offer.
As a sculptor, Cholsu was interested in drawing inspiration from the past.
"Meeting the great masters." Like he used to say.
This trip played to his cards and even though he knew Somin's major was painting, he forbade her to go look at them with others.
"Somin-ah, you have to see real art," he said harshly and his dark brows furrowed.
"But I was really looking forward to the famous paintings," she whined in shock. Her dark long hair bound by a blue bow moved aside as she was giving him puppy eyes.
"We only have three hours. You must start with the basics and that is sculpture, don't be dumb." He grabbed her wrist at the filled foyer.
He pulled her to the floor below, making a public scene. At the same time, other painting students were going to higher floors, to observe the "fundamental pieces of art".
Somin loved his dominant nature at first, yet these moments embarrassed her more and more. Everybody watched their drama unfold. Other visitors heard their argument loud and clear back then and it made her feel even worse.
Once they reached the floor with ancient greek and roman art, he separated from her. Sketchbook in hand putting his handphones on, catching everyone's eyes of course with his tall muscular stature and perfectly fair skin, dark outfit making him more mysterious. Light brown wide coat on his shoulders screamed "I am a serious artist" with a touch of authority and his favorite necklace, two golden wings reached to the middle of his torso.
"Don't disturb me and most importantly learn it well, I will test you." The emphasis on will made her shiver.
He would scream at me. She feared.
The last sentence was filled with utter disgust, fading away with his steps.
"I can't afford to have an uneducated girlfriend."
She had to blink several times, being on the brink of crying after Cholsu left her alone in the almost abandoned room. Most viewers were on the upper floors and only a few people were here in the midst of white marble, side-eyeing her between the pillars or maybe it was only her paranoia taking over.
The view was terrifying at first.
Empty figures caught in a movement, dead white eyes without irises staring blankly into the void. It scared her because she was used to paintings' colorful lively worlds. So incredibly vibrant and inviting. In total opposite to the cold iciness of statues, like abandonment itself.
Stay here alone, statues, nobody cares. She thought looking at their hands.
Reaching upwards, bodies mangled in the most unnatural poses like in some zombie apocalypse gone wrong.
Somin made it to the faraway staircase, eyes fixed on the torso dominating the space from afar. The female body was covered in see-through cloth, caught forever in the middle of the movement like she wanted to fly away. Beautiful wide wings spread, legs pinned down to a fragment of a ship. Headless and alone, yet victorious apparently. Somin was shocked and in her emotional state, the statue spoke to her.
Her scale, her fragmented state.
She's like me, broken. Standing here alone.
Yet her posture was different, she wasn't defeated like the black-haired paintress at all. There was power and determination in her pose. Back then it blew her mind, as it still did now.
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😳 Author's corner 😊
️ Have you ever been to a Louvre gallery? ️
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🎨Illustrations of each chapter are available on my Wattpad acc, AO3 acc -klubickoArt🎨
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