Canvas 5

Ko Sooyeol sat down on the floor and looked at Ko Hun, who was painting with satisfaction.

When he first brought Hun home, he couldn’t adapt to the different environment, but now he seemed to be adjusting little by little, so Sooyeol was relieved.

The thing that relieved him the most is that, Hun didn’t let go of the coloured pencils he had bought him even for a second.

Even while sleeping, he put them by his bedside and slept.

‘That little guy…is after all my grandson’

When his daughter and son-in-law died, the world seemed to be falling apart.

Even though they had their differences and quarrelled, it didn’t mean that he didn’t have any affection for his family.

Ko Sooyeol, when informed of the accident, felt like to he lost everything in this world.

Then he was told that his grandson had not yet died.

He only thought he had to live for his grandson.

He couldn’t give up even when he was told that his brain had stopped functioning.

Everyday felt like a hell.

All of the wealth and fame he had accumulated over the years were of no use to him at that moment.

It was a meaningless thing that couldn’t save his one and only grandchild.

He had no reason to live.

Therefore, he thanked all the Gods when his grandson miraculously came back to life.

Ko Sooyeol approached Ko Hun.

He loved painting so much that he drew several pages in a single day.

Except for the time he ate and slept, he moved the coloured pencil as if he was pouring out something that had been suppressed for a long time.

“Did Hun draw a picture?”

There couldn’t be anything cute compared to his Grandson who was sticking out his tongue and focusing.

This time, wondering what kind of picture he was drawing, he gently shook his head.

“Another pizza”

“Is the pizza that good?”

When he spoke Korean, Hun raised his head and looked up blankly.

“Is the pizza that good?”

When said in French, he nodded his head.

It was like he was eating a Korean pizza for the first time.

Hun talked about pizza in French.

He didn’t know they can have this much meat in them.

He asked how do they make this cheese so savoury, salty, and chewy? How can the potatoes are soft ? do you know how to grow them?

It seems that his daughter had raised Hun strictly by giving only heathy food.

Although she didn’t teach him Korean.

When he heard him talk, he sometimes wondered if he was really ten years old, but when he spoke Korean, he really looked like a child.

He had a lot of questions at his age, so it was difficult to answer a lot of questions.

The grandson he saw when he was a very newborn baby and the one he saw after being admitted to the hospital was normal, although there were some unusual things.

But the one right now was different.

‘hah.’

Sooyeol held up a picture drawn by his grandson.

Although he couldn’t describe it realistically, the sense of using colour was excellent.

Instead of drawing with borders, he distinguished objects by using different colours, and boldly omitted unnecessary parts.

The completed [Pizza] contained Hun’s surprise as it was.

It was reminiscent of Impressionism, which began in France in the 19th century.

He knew how to express the emotions he felt through things rather than expressing them as he saw them.

He didn’t think that was what this little boy intended.

He thought he was following the style of painting he had seen somewhere.

This picture is the result of this child’s talent and education.

‘How the hell did she raise him?’

Ko Sooyeol did not know how his daughter had educated Hun so that he could draw like this.

“Little Hun.”

Hun shook his head.

“How about painting the still life in detail?”

“Why does it the matter?”

Ko Sooyeol gave up talking in Korean with his grandson for the time being.

“This part was messed up. How about expressing it as it is in detail?”

“It’s not fun.”

“Not fun?”

“What’s the point in a painting that looks like a replica?”

‘This guy.’

Ko Sooyeol smiled brightly.

He was proud of his grandson because he thought Hun had a clear standard for the act of drawing a picture.

However, in order for this child to become really big, the ability to observe and express things accurately was also necessary.

He wanted Hun to experience as many different works as possible in the process of establishing his own style of painting.

“What fun it is to draw the same thing again and again.”

The grandson was absorbed in painting again as if he was not interested in the talk.

Ko Sooyeol started contemplating how to attract Hun’s attention.

_________________

The best pizza is the potato pizza.

It’s a pity that I’m full after eating just one piece of this.

It must be because I’m small.

These potatoes are not hard and crumble like paper .

The moment I bite it, it crumbles and wraps my tongue with its moist flesh.

It is reasonable for the tongue to lose consciousness.

Mayonnaise is also a bigger problem.

It doesn’t even taste like the mayonnaise I knew, so how did they come up with the idea of ​​putting mayonnaise on top of a pizza?

Properly ripe mayonnaise goes along perfectly with the cheese.

There cannot be a taste that’s higher than this.

How do I put it on a paper?

I think about what to do, and repeated it, but there is still no satisfactory result.

It is because I am not yet familiar with the tool called coloured pencils.

I wonder how great it would be if I could use oil paints.

But the process of learning this new tool is also enjoyable.

Since the line can be written sharply, more delicate work is possible.

There must be something else that can be expressed with this.

This is so much fun.

Without the hallucinations in my head.

I am so happy now that I can fully focus on the drawing.

How much time has passed

I was Slowly getting hungry

Just then a pizza was delivered, because there was a ringing sound before someone brings pizza.

“Is it pizza?”

“Yes. Go and wash your hands.”

“Yes.”

I went to the bathroom and washed my hands.

It’s good to keep your hands clean, but the emphasis on this practice every time is like a ritual before eating a luxurious dish like pizza.

I washed and came out.

Looks like the pizza is there.

The room where Grandfather was sitting is open.

When I took a sneak peek inside, there was pizza.

But when I took a closer look, it was not a pizza but a painting.

If it had not been partially painted, I would not have known that it was a painting unless I looked at it closely.

The objects on the canvas seem to pop out.

Wonderful.

I don’t know what kind of training it takes to make this kind of description possible.

I know a few people who paint realistically like this.

Such was the case with Gustave Courbet and the great artist Jean-François Millet.

But this picture.

This unfinished pizza picture actually follows exact pizza as far as the description goes.

If it was finished, I would believe it even if it was a picture.

“Little Hun, let’s eat.”

As I was lost in my thoughts, I heard Grandfather’s voice.

It smelled like potato pizza, but it’s less important than looking at this picture.

“Where is he? Little Hun, hun.!”

The technique of expressing reflected light with one small dot is amazing, but I am speechless at the ability to use colour.

It’s not a human skill.

“You punk, if I call you, shouldn’t you at least give a reply.”

I turned my head

“Did grandpa draw this?”

Grandfather laughs slyly.

“Right. your grandfather painted it. Isn’t that cool?”

“……..Yes.”

Draw things as they are.

I practiced drawing until I died, but I had no intention of drawing it as it is.

Because when the camera was invented, I thought it meant nothing.

What’s important is the essence beyond the form, and I thought it is the first priority.

Even now, my thinking has not changed, but this god-like technique can be said to be an art in itself.

It’s surprising that a grandfather, who appears to be in his mid-50s, can maintain such concentration and work with detail.

“My Hun is still young, so maybe he can’t draw like his grandfather…right..?”

While I was admiring it, my grandfather said something that scratched my pride.

“Little Hun draws a lot with coloured pencils, but grandpa would draw like this.”

10 years as an artist.

Have I ever been more upset than this?

“I can draw too.”

“really? I don’t think so?”

Even though I am in a young body now.

The sloppy tone, as if dealing with a child, sounds terribly insulting, with the intention of not being able to paint like this.

“I could.”

“okay. okay. Grandpa believes in our Hun. Come on, come on, let’s eat.”

It is possible to some extent if I try to draw delicately.

_______________

Ko Sooyeol was delighted to see his grandson with a lot of passion.

It was the greatest happiness he got in his age of sixty-four.

The actions that Ko Hun showed after waking up were heart breaking, but the grandson now seemed to have become a completely different person in the last few days.

In particular, when it comes to painting, he showed a remarkable passion.

There was no other way to express it other than obsession.

Ko Sooyeol himself, as well as his daughter Ko Hae, would be equally proud in that aspect.

In particular, he was stubborn when it came to painting, so if he felt something was lacking, he could not stand it.

He had to dig in until he was satisfied with his intuition.

Ko Sooyeol recalled that when raising his daughter it would be always effective whenever she felt stimulating herself rather than him telling her what to do.

So he thought that the same the same thing would work for his grandson Ko Hun.

After all apple can never fall away from the tree.

Hun watched the potato pizza for a long time without eating it even though it was in front of him.

‘This child is going to paint it.’

He was like both himself and his daughter.

He could not live without painting.

This is his last year as dean of the University.

Ko Sooyeol, who was thinking about retiring, pondered what to do for his grandson.

He wanted to show and make him experience as much as possible, and to create an environment where Hun could fully develop his abilities.

He had the ability to do that.

Hun had the qualities of being a great artist.

His drawing skills are great, but his endless greed for painting was his greatest talent.

‘…I think Europe is better than here.’

He was worried that Hun, who is not good at Korean, would not adjust well at schools in Korea.

If so, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have him study at Europe.

‘First of all, getting healthy is the top priority, we can think about it later.’

“Little Hun.”

When he focuses on something, he never answers with a single call.

“Hun. Can you hear me….?”

Hun turned his head.

“Would you like to go see paintings with Grandpa tomorrow?”

“Are we going to a museum?”

“yes.”

He nods his head quickly.

“Great. Then, if you get dictation on 80 Korean words correct, we can go.”

When the condition was attached, Hun pondered for a moment and then asked.

“In Korean?”

“yes. I’ll give you a book to study.”

“…….okay.”

“Listen to your grandfather well, eat well, and when you are healthy, I will take you to Europe.”

Hun’s eyes widened.

“The Louvre?”

“Yes. it can be Louvre, Vatican, National Gallery, Orsay. We can seen them all. Your favourite Picasso Museum or the Van Gogh Museum.”

The grandson, who had been listening to the story with his eyes lit up, suddenly stopped moving.

“Van Gogh?”

“Yes. Vincent Van Gogh.”

Hun frowned and tilted his head.