Chapter 662: Chapter 662 Seduction and Chicken Soup_1
Upon hearing the term "abstract art", Qin Sisi basically understood.
Not to mention others, she also found it difficult to understand abstract art. She had no idea what the artist attempted to express, let alone appreciate it.
However, sensing the artist’s melancholic tune of unrecognized talent, Qin Sisi didn’t want to discourage him. She pondered for a moment before consoling him, "Art truly requires a connoisseur. I know there was an artist named Van Gogh. When he was alive, his paintings weren’t appreciated, but after his death, people discovered their worth. Perhaps, with some more time, you will find someone who appreciates your art!"
Progressively more animated, the painter said, "Indeed, Van Gogh’s paintings gained renown after his death. But do you know what kind of life he led while he was alive? He lived in poverty and illness, mentally unstable and eventually committed suicide. I do not want that life or that ending."
Gently, Qin Sisi said, "There really is no need to be so extreme. With your painting skills, you could do many things, such as design, teach, and so on."
"No," the artist responded without hesitation, "Those trivial matters would interrupt my thought process, disturb my inspiration, and affect my mood for painting. I only want to paint. I want to devote all my time and energy to painting and let the world hear the outcry of my soul."
Qin Sisi had nothing more to say. Perhaps artists are characteristically intense to some extent!
To establish a rapport with the painter, Qin Sisi intentionally asked, "Do you still have your paintings? Could you show me?"
The painter stiffened and slowly shook his head, saying, "They’re all gone, all gone..."
His figure drifted towards the human skeletal remains, stirring a chilly wind in accordance with his memory. Some of the black fragments of paper on the ground and on the skeleton were blown up before they fluttered back down again.
His memories returned to his last day of life.
On that day, he was penniless, and it had been two days since he’d had a meal. Helplessly, he swallowed his pride and phoned an art professor he knew, asking him to promote his paintings.
Unexpectedly, that supposedly kind and gentle professor flatly refused his request and heavily criticized his artworks.
The painter was completely devastated. Looking at every painting that he’d poured his heart and soul into, each was as beautiful as his child to him. But why couldn’t this world accept them?
With no source of income, no place to live, and no food, the painter knew he wouldn’t live much longer.
What was going to happen to his paintings if he died?
Would they find a true connoisseur?
What would happen if they didn’t?
No, he definitely couldn’t allow his beloved children to undergo insults and scorn after his death. It would be better to destroy them himself rather than having them hurt by others.
The painter made up his mind, stacked all his paintings together, and poured a bucketful of concentrated sulfuric acid onto them.
In an instant, the paintings turned black. The beautiful drawings that had cost him countless hours and efforts vanished forever. The blackened fragments of paper, like the corpses of dreams, only made him feel more desperate and crazed.
After opening a second bucket of sulfuric acid, he shouted and poured it over the paintings. But owing to the exertion, some of the acid splashed onto his face and into his eyes.
The pain made him immediately drop the bucket of acid and clutch his face while moaning and screaming like a beast. However, some acid had also gotten on his hands while pouring it, so the pain only worsened and never subsided.
The painter’s first reaction was to call for an ambulance, but soon he realized he had gone blind.
What did it mean for a painter to lose his eyesight?
The painter gave up on seeking help and just lay down with his paintings in the sulfuric acid.
The ground was designed to be corrosive-resistant, so a fair share of the acid pooled on the floor. The desperate painter simply lay on the ground and drank a few mouthfuls of the concentrated sulfuric acid. Soon, his belly was on fire.
The painter coughed up blood, lying painfully amidst the concentrated sulfuric acid, helplessly bearing the corrosion of the strong acid, waiting for the end of his life.
Finally, this tragic ordeal was over.
The last words that crossed his mind were that at that moment, he felt like Van Gogh.
He did not want the same ending as Van Gogh’s, but in the end, he took a similar path.
And yet, he remained unwilling to resign himself to fate!
When the Messenger of Death came to lead him to the underworld, the painter refused.
He shared that he was very desolate towards this world. He’d rather lose his eyesight, stop painting, and never harbor any hope again to avoid any future disappointment.
However, painting was always his greatest love in life. Without his eyesight, and unable to hold a paintbrush and paper, he made do with drawing in the air using his fingers. Relying on his intuition, he used his fingers to sketch what he thought was the most beautiful image.
When Qin Sisi arrived, he was painting.
From the painter’s disheveled and passionate words, Qin Sisi understood what had transpired. Her feelings were complicated.
She disagreed somewhat with the painter’s mindset. While pursuing one’s dreams is indeed praiseworthy, one must first live well. Without basic survival skills, how could one dream?
Nevertheless, the painter’s heartfelt passion for painting, and his pure yet strong feelings, also inspired her admiration.
After organizing her thoughts, Qin Sisi said to the painter, "You shouldn’t fade away like this. You should reincarnate and continue to pursue your dreams."
With a woeful face, the painter responded, "I would love to, but I’m afraid. I fear that my works will still not be appreciated, and the beautiful images will be discarded and despised along with me."
In a loud voice, Qin Sisi said, "I can help you. As long as you continue to have a passion for painting, I can ensure you have a successful life."
The painter moved his head slightly. Qin Sisi noticed that he was a bit tempted. The painter asked, "You want me to offer you my Soul Power, right?"
After a short pause, Qin Sisi said, "If those drawings are truly beautiful, I believe waiting for a thousand years would be worth it."
What the painter loved most were his paintings. Using his paintings as a persuasion point would likely have the greatest appeal.
Indeed, the painter fell silent, clearly considering the offer.
Was such an enticement not enough?
After thinking it over, Qin Sisi emptied her mind of all the inspiring figures she could think of and offered the painter a motivational speech, "Demosthenes had a stutter but became an orator. Einstein and Edison were both called idiots in their childhood but they grew up to be great scientists. Moreover, the literary man Milton was blind. The musician Beethoven was deaf. The violinist Paganini was a mute.
If Heaven is about to place a great responsibility on a man, it will first exercise his mind with suffering, and his body with toil. It will expose his body to hunger. If they had chosen to give up owing to their adversities, their later accomplishments likely would never have occurred!"
