An Art Student Who Lives Twice - Chapter 24

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“An art exhibition for my works?” She made a strange expression—the expression of a tuna being caught in the Han River. However, underneath that face, there was clearly interest.

“The owner here allowed me to hang the students’ works,” I explained.

“Really?”

Hanseol’s eyes sparkled.

Without missing the opportunity, I continued, “Yes, but as soon as I heard the owner’s words, I immediately thought of my sister. If you have any thoughts of exhibiting your works here…”

“I like it! I want to do it! Let me do it!” Hanseol said with noticeable joy.

My prediction was correct.

‘Art students are creatures that go crazy if they can hold even a single, small exhibition.’

I targeted the fact that she was an art student.

‘It’s a hundred times better than renting a gallery that costs hundreds of thousands of won just for no one to visit. Besides, Hanseol’s sculptures can pile up with a single breath.’

In my experience, sculptures tend to be good decorations even if they’re placed on a random shelf. Moreover, it goes without saying that it’s Hanseol’s work.

Is that all?

It also coincides with the exhibition culture trend of the near future, which is the combination of a resting area and an exhibition.

‘Killing two birds with one stone— no, three birds with one stone.’

I smiled and continued to talk, “But time is running out.”

“How long?”

“I want them finished within this week.”

“Oh really? Then it’s okay. I was in trouble because there were a lot of things I made, but I’ll bring them here.”

If you don’t have it, let’s make it and then come back.

She seemed to be delighted that she could display her work for free, and I’m happy because I don’t have to pay, so we can say it’s a bilateral contract.

Just like this, the basic preparations are completed.

The new wallpaper and lighting would arrive tomorrow, and the furniture and sculptures were to be installed together at once.

‘Then it’s my turn now….’

This is my task.

Not only Hanseol, but I am also happy with the free exhibition.

From the beginning, I had no intentions of only doing good to provide opportunities for others before ending it.

If we’re going to display our works, wouldn’t it be okay to hang at least one of my works as well?

‘Then….what should I make?’

The real trouble began.

*

When I returned to my own room after work, I started to worry.

‘Why did I want to design it?’

It was a concern that designers often had when planning new projects.

I thought about it for a long time, but I couldn’t think of anything as if I was trying to look into a thick layer of fog.

I can’t help it.

Nearly 20 years have already passed since I decided to become a designer in my previous life.

If you work like a cog as the company tells you to do, your initial thoughts will tend to fade.

‘They told you to peel it, so you did.’

From some point on, I worked with inertia.

‘But why did I really want to become a designer? Was it because the only thing I knew how to do was draw?’

It was the moment when I was unintentionally questioning my career choice.

A shoe box next to the closet in my bedroom caught my eye.

‘That’s…..’

When I pulled the box closer, I realized it was full of notes.

It was a sketchbook.

Things I’ve been collecting since high school.

Little by little, it accumulated enough to fill a large box.

‘Wait…’

A thought ran through my mind.

‘There must be some old ones in here.’

If I read them, wouldn’t I be able to find my original intentions in it?

I pulled out what was buried at the very bottom. Somehow, my heart fluttered as if I were taking out a time capsule.

When I opened the old sketchbooks laid out at the bottom, the impressions that came to my mind were something like this:

‘Did I draw this with my feet?’

The pictures were all blurry.

Of course, they were things I drew when I was still taking the entrance exam. I was ashamed to say that the things I drew before were graffiti.

But…

I drew these pictures because I wanted to.

‘I didn’t just draw them because I was told to. These are my sketches that I drew because I wanted to.’

A smirk spread across my face.

‘I remember now.’

The oldest sketchbook.

The first page had an antique television drawn on it.

It wasn’t just a television.

It was a dial-type television that preserved the vintage sensibility of the 70s. It was something that would have been discontinued before I was even born.

The moment I saw the sketch, I remembered.

‘This is why I started designing.’

It began when I was young.

I grew up in the countryside, and although I wasn’t very poor, I had no choice but to receive less of the benefits of civilization than city children.

But don’t you think you’ll know?

What others wanted, what they wanted to have, was what I wanted as well. So I eagerly begged my parents, but they remained silent.

They were usually asking me to grow up healthy, but it seemed like they only wanted to raise me in a really healthy way.

So, I drew.

‘I drew it carefully and kept it, so it felt like I actually owned it.’

I drew whatever I wanted to have. Whether it was already existing or not, I drew it blindly.

Even if you don’t have any talent, you will gradually improve as you draw, and in doing so, you’ll earn a lot of compliments from your friends.

While drawing like that, I naturally dreamed of becoming a designer.

‘I wanted to bring the objects I dreamed of into reality, something beyond putting the object I wanted on paper.’

Most of the objects drawn in this sketchbook were objects that I wanted to have in real life.

‘Let’s try making one of them.’

Now, I have an opportunity to achieve my ideals as a designer.

*

[Han Yewon’s studio]

“Seol, do you have any wood left from last time?” I asked while I was visiting Hanseol.

“Oh, those things?”

Hanseol looked around and said, “I think the professors took it all away.”

“…. Really?”

“Yeah. There’s nothing left. However….” Hanseol laughed and said, “I took out some useful things in advance.”

“Where did you put them?”

“In my studio.”

Did she have a studio?

As soon as those words came out, I decided to go to her private studio.

“It’s been a while since I brought someone here”.

A 10 minutes walk from school.

Rather than a common studio, it was a space close to that of a small warehouse.

“How much is the monthly rent?”

“It’s free.”

“Oh? Really?”

As I asked in surprise, she shrugged and said, “My dad got it for me.”

Oh, that’s right.

Very few art students are actually poor. Few students cover their tuition by themselves like me.

‘By the way, what a place.’

The studio was a workroom, but it truly was closer to a simple warehouse.

The sculptures she made were rolling around everywhere.

‘It’s her hard work.’

I almost want to steal one or two of them.

Of course, that’s what I’m only saying.

While I was drooling like that, Hanseol pulled up the curtain in the corner of the room.

Flap.

Underneath it, pieces of nicely cut wood were piled up.

“Sister, when did you steal all of this?”

“Watch what you say.”

Oops.

I looked at Hanseol, wondering if I had made a mistake, and she looked at me and said, “I didn’t steal it. I just kept it.”

“….”

That’s not it…

But it wasn’t my business. Rather, I was worried about something else.

“How can I take this back?”

That’s right.

The pieces of wood weighed much more than I originally thought.

Can I actually move it from here without any issues?

I was thinking about calling a taxi, but Hanseol said as if she wasn’t bothered, “You can just work here.”

“Really?”

She spoke as if it were natural. “It’s going to be hard to carry around. You’re not going to be able to take anything.”

She graciously allowed me to stay.

For art students, sharing a studio means one special fact.

It means that you trust your opponent.

“I have a class in the morning tomorrow, so I’ll have to leave early. I’ll leave the key here, so if I have to go home while you’re still working, lock it.”

“Yeah.”

So Hanseol left early.

She has class tomorrow morning, but I didn’t.

‘Let’s see.’

First, I picked out a large piece of wood.

It was a walnut (tree).

‘This is good.’

It was thick, so I had a good feeling.

Usually, the thicker the tree, the better the quality tends to be. This is because the wood grows thicker and stronger as time passes.

The ones that I selected were particularly thick.

‘This whole thing needs to be trimmed into the form of a small television.’

It might be more of a sculpture than a production, so I was a little nervous.

‘When sculpting, you cannot make a mistake. You have to be as careful as possible.’

I pictured the finished product in my mind, and while I was at it, I estimated where I would have to trim the wood.

Once all my thoughts were organized, I drew a blueprint with a pencil on the tree.

‘It’s starting now.’

I picked up a carving knife and slowly began to dig it out along the pencil lines.

Cracky.

It’s not exactly working well, but I wasn’t greedy for speed.

I proceeded slowly.

‘Careful. Don’t be greedy to get ahead.’

Sculptors often described sculptures as mirrors that reflected their minds. And as Hanseol said, I was completely immersed in the work and trimmed the wood very finely.

To-doo.

Every time the carving knife pierced the wood, wood shavings fell endlessly to the floor. Usually, the wood shavings that fall down like this are thrown away, but I collected them in one place because I had a different use for them.

Tap. Tap.

The sound of wood being cut resounded loudly in the empty studio.

After trimming the wood for a while, a large lump was soon formed.

‘This is the real beginning.’

Three parts.

It’s time to make the three parts, which can be called the identity of retro television.

The first one.

‘This is a television. A TV definitely needs a screen.’

Once upon a time, the old CRT television had one characteristic: it looked like there was noise on the screen.

‘Now. It’s time for you to come into play.’

I took out the wood shavings that I had collected a while ago.

A thin layer of glue was applied to the part that would be the television screen, and the wood shavings were carefully applied over it.

‘Even the screen is shiny when touched. This should be done as meticulously as possible.’

This was the most important part.

Making it slightly convex overall while maintaining the feeling of a smooth glass surface.

This was the biggest identity of retro television.

‘Okay. It’s looking good.’

After applying it and turning the sculpture around, it felt pretty good.

We have passed the first gate.

It was now the moment to create the second part of the identity of retro television.

‘A dial knob.’

These days, remote control is standard in TVs. However, the remote control isn’t as stylish as the dial knob.

The dial knob is the best.

The style should be a dial-type.

I said it twice because it’s important.

‘Let’s cut and paste the dial on a separate piece of wood.’

The color of the wood was also important in this part.

Walnuts are dark in color, like dark chocolate, so I wanted to complete the dial with a contrasting color.

‘Ash is good.’

Ash was a lighter, more manageable wood.

I found a piece rolling around in the corner of the studio, and picked up some of the smaller chunks.

‘Let’s focus on the details here.’

Since it’s such detailed work, two chunks were failures. It wasn’t until the third attempt that I succeeded in compiling the assortment.

‘Let’s stick it on like this.’

Dials were placed on the front of the television in order.

Fortunately, I succeeded in one try.

‘Okay. This is the last one.’

Next is the antenna.

Screens, dials, and antennas—these three were what I thought were the identity of a retro television.

That’s how I continued to work.

Why?

As my goals were completed one by one, goosebumps rose on my skin.

I suddenly realized.

“….This is fun.”

The fun of seeing my imaginations appearing in reality.

Moreover, how will others react when this is completed and shown to them?

It’s fun to imagine.

A number of various elements overlapped in a complex way, and as the work was completed, a smile appeared on my face.

Often, sculptors would describe their work as their children.

Then, this television was my first child.

‘Nice to meet you.’

I’m sorry I forgot about you this whole time.

I had to go back 10 years before I met you again.

In this life, I will design the things I want to design.

It was around the time when I decided to take a step back.

“….Wow.”

I broke my concentration and heard a thin voice.

When I turned my head, Hanseol was looking at me.

“Your level of concentration is amazing.” She muttered in a surprised voice.

“You were making it without breathing. I thought you died while you were sculpting.”

“Since when have you been here?”

“I won’t tell you,” She joked.

I smiled and asked, “Sister, what do you think of this?”

“Hmm.”

Hanseol crossed her arms sternly and looked at the television I made for a long time.

Looking at me suspiciously, she asked, “By any chance, will you transfer to the Sculpture Department?”

Where have I heard that?

“You just copied Ji-hoon, didnt you?”

“Don’t be shy, Lee Jaeha.”

We both looked at each other and laughed for a long time.

After a while, Hanseol said, “Let’s go, I’ll buy you breakfast. What do you want to eat?”

“Rice soup.”

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