Now Playing: Youth by Daugther
The scrapping of clay and soft music playing in the background was what all Felix could hear. He was too indulged in his work to care about what songs were playing and he wanted to get his sculptor done by tonight or tomorrow. He had been working on this piece for quite some time now and he had put in all of his time into it.
He was in the comfort of his own studio, different sculptors of people or animals filling the room along with untouched clay models beside it. His outfit was stained with grey from all the breaking and remaking of clay he had to do earlier, leaving his wooden floor messy; he had made a mental note to get someone to clean it up once he was done.
His fingertips were gently touching the cheek of his statue, his tool slowly scrapping off any access clay just so he could make the jawline sharper. He remembered how he started off, he was getting the base of the body first, which he used stones. Every day he would spend a few hours just breaking it apart just so he could get it to the right shape he wanted it to be. When he did achieve it, he used clay for the details, hence what he was doing now.
He didn't know how long he spent on the details, he only remembered his friend, Seungmin coming over and dragging him away from the studio because he was staying in there for a few days straight without any sleep or even eating. He didn't mean to do it, though; when he was focused on his work, that was the only thing he could think of.
He stopped scraping once he found that it was good enough and looked at the statue in front of him. He stared into the stone-cold eyes of his masterpiece and he couldn't help but feel déjà vu when looking at it. He caressed the cheek with his thumb, feeling the roughness of the surface against his skin, and pulled away, stepping a few steps back to see his final result.
He sighed in relief and let out a breathy chuckle as he gazed at the statue in front of him. The body structure, along with the face was perfect; all those nights spent time detailing the statue was definitely worth it. He managed to show off the curves and the wrinkles of the clothes that he made on the structure, making it look smooth and real. The grip on the hourglass that he made his statue hold seemed even more real; the small lines at the side of his palms were shown, along with the lines on the fingers of the statues, all looking so smooth and soft to touch.
He then started to observe more at what he did; usually, he would tell a story when creating sculptors, and to do that, he let his mind run free. He would only realize what he did once he had finished his work.
His eyes landed on the hourglass, he made the sand look more realistic and softer as for the glass; he had broken them into bits of pieces to place them at random spots of the hourglass. It was to make it look like it was broken but the sand was still going down. His eyes then trailed up to the face of his statue, there were small and big cracks; he had intentionally put it there and it wasn't because he made mistakes. No, he could never a mistake; he couldn't risk it. He reached his hand out to touch one of the cracks, gently rubbing it as he looked at the hard clay tears that were trailing down his statue's eyes.
It was beautiful.
The structure, the man, and the details themselves were bewitching. The man's cracks on his skin were the troubles that he had gone through; each challenging situation he found himself in, he broke something off him, losing himself in the process. Thus, the tears that were running down the cheek of the statue; the pain he had to endure during these situations were too much and he wants it to stop. But then the hourglass comes into place; he can't stop because he knows he must keep going otherwise time would be coming after him.
"Denouement," he whispers to himself. "The outcome of a complex sequence of events."
"That's what I'll call you," he adds on later, still admiring his work before him.
The longer he stared, the more things he noticed. He found the statue familiar to him and when his eyes traced the outline of the statue's face; he knew what it was. "Ah," he let out, he did it again. "I made you again."
Memories flooded in again but he pushed all of them aside as he stepped away from the statue. "It's okay," he grabbed his phone and began making a few arrangements. "Get ready to appear in the next showing again next week."
.
.
.
The sound of a brush sliding onto the surface of a canvas was heard. Jisung was stood up, his painting being bigger than he anticipated but he made it work. There was loud music playing in the background, most probably from another artist that was working at the same place he was but he was too focused on his work to even bother about that. His ears were tunning them out as he mixed certain colors to get the right shade he wanted.
The room was filled with his painting ranging from small to big. They contained the same concept; a person with different themes added to it but there were some animals as well as empty canvas in the area. There were splashes of paint at every corner of the walls and there were some on the floor as well. He was basically drenched in multiple colors, even his shoes got in on the fun.
He wasn't sure how long he had been in the studio; he had been working on this painting for weeks and he wanted to get it done as soon as possible. His friends had come and visited but he didn't really pay much attention to them; too focused on the painting and getting it right with the shades of colors. He had spent nights in the studio, never leaving unless it was to shower or get food. He suddenly had this huge inspiration out of nowhere and he didn't want it to leave halfway through the process.
He pursed out his lips as he dabbed his painting with his brush, trying to get the honey-kissed skin that his character had in the canvas to appear. Once he was done, he got maroon red on his brush and outlines the scars and wounds that his character had. After that, he mixed up a few colors to try and get a light shade of beige and began scattering it over the cheeks.
"Done," he muttered to himself as he tossed his painting set over to some table and walked back to get a sight of the huge painting in front of him, stumbling a bit since the place was quite messy and he may have stepped on some paints that he made a mental note to buy after.
He smiled at his creation; all those nights spending it at the studio really paid off. It was a close-up of a man holding an hourglass; the different shading at the ack made the shadow seem like it's there. He had added many different colors of shadings to the skin of his character and the hourglass so it looked more realistic. Since he used acrylic paint, he had intentionally made a few bumps here and there to create some sort of effect, making the painting pop out more. He managed to paint his character's hair to the point that it looked soft and ready to touch; his freckles that were displayed clearly for basically anyone to see were naturalistic.
He examined his masterpiece closer, taking in the details he had put his blood, sweat, and tears on. The hourglass looked like it was going to crack anytime soon as the sand was almost going out. His character was crying out red tears instead of the ordinary watery ones as there were scars and wounds on his skin that were showing, ones that were still bleeding. His facial expression seems sad and lost while also seeming like he was voicing out for help, one that Jisung wanted to portray in his painting.
It was perfect.
He wanted his painting to tell a story. The scars and wounds that were fresh were something that he wanted to show; the man had been through so much that it left him wounded, something to remind him of the excruciating battles he had to survive in order to get to where he was now. The blood tears streaming down his face was going to tell that he was still facing pain, he was still broken inside and he needed to be fixed but with the expression that this character was making, it would seem that he wouldn't know how to or he is not able to. Then the hourglass was a reminder that time was running out for him.
He needed to get help but he couldn't due to him being scared of getting hurt again or fearing that nobody would understand. But as he can't get the help he needed, time was coming after him and he was losing going to lose himself in the process.
"Exulansis," he said. "The tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it."
"Congratulations, you have a name now."
As he walked closer to the painting, he stared deeply into the familiar brown eyes of his character. He knew who it was and he didn't care that he painted him again. He was meant to be treated as an art piece; something that should be shown to the public eye and he was going to do just that.
"You're coming with me to the showing next week."
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.
.
Pictures were taken and people conversed with each other as they gawked at the two masterpieces that were displayed in front of them. One was the statue that Felix had made and one was the painting that Jisung had created. Both were showing similar concepts and with the matching of the hourglass, the hosts had decided to put their artworks together in hopes of attracting a bigger audience; in this case, it did.
Both of the artists were there, standing behind the crowd that was gathering in front of their artworks. Felix was glancing at Jisung's painting whereas the older was doing the same with his statue.
Both realized that they had created artworks of each other; making the memories of them flood into their minds. Yes, they did know each other; they had history.
They were young and in love before, both were trying to become aspiring artists in hopes of getting their work recognized as well as telling the story behind it. They did achieve that, but the journey to get to where they are also drove them apart. They were on the same page but on different paragraphs, causing them to lose one another and letting time get to them.
They became well-known artists in the end, but they lost each other in the process.
Jisung looked over to where Felix was, he was standing just a few meters away from him and he still looked like the male he fell in love with. The freckled boy turned his head to the side and his gaze was immediately connected with the painter. They both did nothing but get lost in each other's eyes; like how they would always be when they were together, back when times weren't so stuff.
Both still had strong feelings for each other but they knew they couldn't start over again if they wanted to. Jisung was too caught up in his past, losing himself and projecting his bad qualities onto Felix who still can't voice out his own troubles that were haunting him. They were too chaotic if paired up together.
They looked away at the same time, taking one last glance at their artwork before moving on to find their friends. However, Jisung stopped in his tracks and peeked over his shoulder to see Felix doing the same.
Despite being the lovers that went wrong, they were still each other's muses for their inspiration. They knew they can never move on.
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I am actually very happy with this work skdjvksjnvjsn
I have always had some sort of soft spot with artists falling in love and with the work they create along with it.
SPEAKING OF THAT! i recently had come up with a HYUNLIX story that has a similar concept to this. HINT: model Felix and Artist Hyunjin skjvnksjnvjkfdvnjkdfnvkjdfnbjkdnf
Also! I'm sorry if i didn't do any of the explanations correctly or anything or if I did something wrong with writing the way someone sculptors something. I'm just writing based on what I seen and i think people who do sculpting for a living ROCKS BECAUSE THE HARD WORK PUT INTO IT IS SO AMAZING ???JKSFNVKJSDNVKJFNBV
anyways, i might take longer to update the next one since it's a bit long so be prepared for that!
DON'T FORGET TO TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS CHAPTER!
thank you for reading this far and i hope you have a wonderful day!