The Art of Dreaming || TaeJin

1. Lost Until Found

The Artist:

A dream, the root to every new creation, the core to every new experiment and the spark to every new beginning. The French windows, the porcelain pot, the buildings, airplanes, and everything that we see somewhere someone had to dream it all.

Dreams are what I search for when I look at the world, eyes that dream are always a tad different from the usual ones. They sparkle with a bizarre gleam, a hint of crazy and a need that goes too deep into the soul, an un-put-down-able search of the heart.

My pen sketched in its own volition, he might think I’m blatantly hitting on him with the amount of times my eyes have flickered to him.

I’m trying to be discreet, if that is even possible being a metre away and sealed in the closed compartment of the airplane. I’m trying not to be rude but it’s been awhile since I’ve felt this utter charm, this rush of need to capture something in my page, or someone.

I’m an artist who lost his inspiration sometime last year, and have been desperately trying to get it back ever since, tried travelling, dating, took a break, visited my folks, but my mind won’t clear as it stubbornly held on to its pathetic lack. The situation went so ugly that I was beginning to think about selling my studio, what’s the use of keeping it anyway if I can’t paint.

Nothing, nothing worked for the last seven months and a handful more days.

And now, out of the blue, in an airplane sitting a metre away from me, staring out into the crimson and orange morning sky was my inspiration, my salvation.

I have been watching him since we boarded at Seoul, and to my better luck it's a long flight.

His skin was glowing, I can only imagine how soft those chocolate brown bangs could be but he had anxious lips, often chewing those to have them turn cherry and restless hands, clenching one moment, gripping the magazine next and discarding it again to look out of the window.

Then he turned my way, and I tried to look away, I swear I wanted to but just couldn’t. I needed to see those eyes, even if it’s for a millionth of a second, told myself that I’ll just take the tiniest glance but badly slipped and forgot all the etiquette of being proper and gaped at him like the savage he turned me.

Galaxies and whole universes seemed to have had submitted to those eyes, what power could I really have to resist not losing to them?

I have never seen so much strength and fire in such sad eyes.

He turned away, and I felt like I will never reach the end of this free-fall, I was still falling.

“Let me help you” I offered as he struggled with the duffle he had put in overhead.

“Ah it’s fine, thank you” he smiled at me, flashing that maddening gaze at me once more and I had to blink away.

“First time in Vienna?” I asked trying to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, just a getaway trip” he shrugged casually smiling again.

“People don’t usually come this far for a getaway” I thought out loud, and instantly realized I shouldn’t have said that, way too impolite for a first acquaintance.

“I guess I needed a lot of distance to really get away” he smiled through his sad eyes and curiosity hooked onto me like a wicked sin.

I was sure, those eyes are going to leave me in a million pieces and yet a million dreams we’d create in the moments that he’d give me, a million tiny sparks of fantasies I’d steal from him to feed my hungry soul.