odyssey

a short story by chae

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The painting judged me. I, the artist, was apparently the one being critiqued by the artwork. I merely looked at the finished product, but it did not hold back its scrutinizing stare; the murky lake looked murkier as it stared daggers with my posture.

"How dare you stand before me?" it seemed to say.

I looked at the signature, which was placed bottom-right of the painting:

"Chaeyoung" it said.

I don't know about you, but I was tired of having this happen to me every single time I paint. Every time. And so it was then that I decided, or rather, it was years ago that I decided, but only now was this decision put into action because of all the misalignments and such. But now, we're here. No more putting things off. No more slacking off. No more excuses.

I raised the knife I had in my hand as high as my aweary muscles could manage. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.... Inhale......

AND STAB! I PLUNGE THE KNIFE DEEP INTO THE PROVERBIAL GIRTH OF THE HOLLOW CANVAS! AT LAST! THE HEFT IS NO LONGER UPON MY BACK! I CAN FINALLY STAND UP! I CAN FINALLY STAND UP! I CAN-

Suddenly, I hear the doorbell ring. I run up to open the door.

"Good evening, Chaeyoung," Mina greets me, "may I come in?"

"Of course, of course, please do." I reply, I like to think, quite accomodatingly.

"So this is your studio?" she asks, looking here and there, her arms behind her back.

"Studio slash apartment slash house slash abode slash basically my all-in-one home-office." I reply, I like to think, quite cleverly.

"You don't need to impress me, you know." Mina seemed to catch on.

"I'm not trying to impress you, that's the neighbor's job."

"The neighbor's job?"

"They probably have a master's degree in it, too."

"Why would they have a master's degree in impressing me? And who on earth hired them?"

"How would I know? I'm just thinking out loud here."

"Speaking of thinking out loud, this painting seems to be screaming out loud." Mina looks to the painting I stabbed earlier. I stared at it. At the painting, I mean. I stared at the painting. I didn't stare at Mina, no. I stared at the painting. Why would I stare at Mina? I stared at the painting. Or rather, what remained of the painting, since.... if you can recall, I had only recently murdered the artwork in question.

"The painting screams at you?" I ask.

"It's just screaming. Not necessarily at me, but perhaps at the world?"

"Why would it be screaming at the world?"

"Well, it's ripped. It's practically on its death bed. Probably in a lot of pain. If you were in pain— a lot of pain— wouldn't you scream as well?"

"Well, I suppose I would, but I don't think this painting is screaming out of pain."

"Oh?"

"I'm the one who ripped this painting. And I would like to think that I simply put this painting out of its misery."

"Was the painting miserable?"

"It was ugly. It was an ugly painting. If I had put it up on a wall with other paintings, it would be judged. And I know how that feels..."

"Who said that it was ugly?"

"The standard. The standard of art says so."

"When did the standard say that?"

"That's the wrong question, the right one would be 'if the standard really did say that, did they offer a solution?'"

"Well, did they?"

I looked at Mina—a certain airy gaze was layed on me, in turn. I gave a light shake of the head.

"I see." Mina says. Our eyes met the ground. It said hello, but we didn't seem to have the strength to greet it back any longer.

"Hey, can I paint you?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"You paint me?"

"Yes, I paint you. Can I?"

"Sure, there's no problem with that, I suppose."

"Great, just sit over there while I get a new canvas."

"Over where?"

"Over there."

"Over here?"

"Yes." I said, as I placed a blank canvas onto the easel.

"Do I just sit still?" Mina asked.

"Just act natural and relaxed. Imagine you just finished your thesis and you handed it in, and you have three weeks of vacation. And so you sit by the window at your beach resort sipping a cup of Earl Grey. The sun is up, some clouds have come to play, and birds are singing a song particularly in the key of E#." I explain.

"Oh wow, that's very vivid." Mina said, as she positioned herself into some position that I suppose resembled the scene I had just mentioned.

"That's perfect! Alright, now just hold that pose." I instructed her, and she nodded.

I started with a rough sketch. I meddled with the paints and fiddled with the brush, tapping here and there and where might you. It was a dance. A waltz of some kind. Speaking of waltz, dancing the waltz with somebody is still on my bucket list. I better do that. Speaking of bucke- oh, and the first layer is done. I looked at it yet it lacked eyes, so it could not look back at me. I was pleased. And I began with the second layer. Now, the second layer is less of a dance and more of a tiptoeing. This is because you have to be careful not to overdo some shadows yet not holdback some shadows. It's like balancing on a tightrope, but the tightrope is loose. So calling it a "tightrope" is a misnomer, since the adequate name would be "looserope". But try to have balance, and just like that, the second layer is done. Now, it was in my full control whether I chose to do a third layer, and a fourth, and a fifth, but I figured Mina wouldn't want to sit there any longer than she has to for the painting to look at least half good, so I just stopped at the second layer. It looks basic, but it's... yeah, it's basic. Or maybe 'basic' isn't the right word. I feel like, it's... more like....

"Simple!" I said, out loud. Why did I say that out loud?

"Is it done?" Mina calls out from where she was sitting.

"Is it done? Are dogs mammals?" I jokingly reply.

"Let me see then!" Mina said, getting up. I could tell she was excited because her phone fell out of her pocket, and it made a very audible 'thud' and yet she still continued to walk towards me. I just hope her phone falling is worth looking at my simple painti-

"WOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IT'S SO PRETTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!?!?!!?!1!!1!1!1!?!1!1!1!" Mina screams.

"Is it really~?" I inquire.

"Yessss you paint so welll~ it's so prettyyy." she answers. Of course it's pretty, my muse was beautiful.

"Thank you very much~!" I said, looking at her.

I switched my view towards the finished portrait. It did not judge me.

When it was time for Mina to go, I asked her if she wanted to have the painting. She was delighted and accepted the offer. We waved goodbyes as she went in her car. It was only when her car was a couple miles away that I realized that I never truly learned her reason for coming to my home. She never mentioned it, I never asked, and yet, we felt comfortable with each other. There was a mutual acceptance that we would just talk about ripped paintings, paint a painting, and talk about each others' lives over some Oolong. I guess sometimes, we don't really need a reason to simply unwind and enjoy some company. Though somewhat awakening in a way, an odyssey isn't the most necessary thing in the world.

I headed back inside and saw the ripped painting still on the floor, still torn. I picked it up and gazed at it. It could not gaze back.

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