Saturn Devouring His Son
D A E J U N G ‘ S feet carried him through a crowd of people. Words of foreign tongues resounded all around him and melted into one big puddle, noise. Although they had long parted ways at noon, Daejung was closer than Yeonjoo would have expected. He was right there, at the heart of the chaos, surrounded by paintings of long-dead painters, and yet these deceased had more significance in his life than he did himself.
It was long into the evening when Daejung began to seek Yeonjoo in the crowd of paintings. He found her standing in front of a masterpiece of its kind. Saturn devouring his son, Francisco Goya. The man stopped meters beside her, his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. Yeonjoo’s gaze at the painting had an intensity that shook the young man up. He could not imagine that art could spark a person’s interest in such a manner, not regular people like him and her anyhow. He believed that art was exclusively for one elite -- who themselves did not understand art either -- but used art as a sort of status symbol. That was all art was to him, mere decoration if anything.
“You will burn a hole into the painting with your eyes.” His voice resounded suddenly and interrupted the thick layer of silence that hang around them. Not many people visited this part of the exhibition.
@surgeonoh
