Mega Sick

III - Expensive Leaves Nonsense

After lunch, Declan and I walk back around to the art museum and decide to get inside to see if there is anything interesting. It turns out that they're holding an exhibition from a rising contemporary painter in display today. The guy had just won an award from a foreign art competition.

I quietly walk around the gallery, there're probably only two of us here. All of the artist works were color-blocks, experiment with different materials and a non-stop black marker drawing of something I can't really make sense of.

"You know what? I have to admit this. I will never be able to understand the artistic value of paintings with only one color like this. Even I can do this myself, how did this dude win an award?" Declan popped his head over my shoulder from behind, whispering, implying that painting in front of us. It has one single navy blue stroke in the middle of a white canvas with a few drips going down towards the bottom end.

"Then what are you studying interior design for?" I glanced at him, said sarcastically.

He put a hand in his pocket, looking at me in disappointment. "I haven't seen any possibilities of it in my decorating ideas. And that painting is expensive as hell, look."

My eyes glance to the left corner of the picture where the white price tag is placed neatly. That's mediocre actually. "Well don't you think it can fit on a red living room wall?"

"In that case, sill too expensive for a young, unknown artist." Declan shrugged.

I walked up to the painting, tapping my finger on the surface of it. We are not supposed to touch any of the paintings but fuck it, I love the rough feeling of dry acrylic paint on canvas.

"Reputation of an artist is a funny thing. It can be as easy and as hard to get as you can imagine. Take Picasso for example, he paid people to go around and ask for his works at art galleries to create reputation for himself. At that time, not many people understand the true meaning of art, so word-of-mouth was a powerful thing. Art isn't meant to be comprehensible. It's meant to be interpreted the way each and anyone of us see it with our eyes. There are so much things in this world doesn't have to have a solid meaning. In this industry, you just need to be eye-catching, and get exposed to as many people as possible; you may make that profit sooner than you think. "

I lean back against the wall behind me, right next to the indigo blue painting. "That so-called 'bringing art to the public', sometimes is just business, otherwise painter will starve to death. There are so few people in this life, like Kurt Cobain and Bob Marley, who just do art because they want to, regardless of what people think."

Declan leans against one of the white pillars opposite to me "You sounded like you just chose to betray the art industry you're trying to get in."

I take one look around the quiet gallery, then back to Declan's pale blue eyes.

"Most of the free time I spend on contradicting myself."

He giggles. "I thought it was just me."

We leave the museum right after that continue walking around the streets instead of going straight back to Declan's car. Mostly because it is quite nice outside and Declan wanted me to take him around since "I spend most of my year at home sitting on my computer or in those shite places near the school."

Eventually, I come up with the idea of ​​waiting in line for the afternoon croissant at the bakery we passed before and coffee from any shop along the way. But by the time we reach the bakery, the croissant was out of stock, and the shopping street doesn't have a nice enough coffee shop. There is only one convenience store around, which coffee I knew by now should not only look but also taste like tar.