Chapter 84

84

* * * *

"A wise person finds each day a new life. Do not forget that today will never come again."

Dante Alighieri, born in Florence, Italy in March 1265 and died in 1321, was the favorite literary figure of Michelangelo Buonarroti, who was born in March 1475.

Michelangelo.

If he followed Dante Alighieri's words, he would have spent each day, which would never come again, carving stone.

Let me correct that.

The expression "spent each day" is not quite right.

Finding the right word is difficult.

I am a stone carver, not a literary figure...

Let me put it this way: he spent almost the entire day carving.

In any case.

Even when his eyesight and physical strength weakened to the point where he could barely see, Michelangelo continued to carve, relying on his sense of touch, until a few days before his death.

He did this until he could no longer get up.

Why did he do this?

The answer is simple.

To him, carving was the most important and prioritized thing, worthy of dedicating each day that would never come again.

At this point, I want to ask the audience.

Do you have such a thing?

More precisely, have you found such a thing?

If you have found it, immerse yourself in it.

Time is relative and fleeting, so if you don't immerse yourself in it now, you won't be able to enjoy it to your satisfaction.

It's not a waste to immerse yourself in it for a lifetime.

– Excerpt from a blog post recording the words of Yang Seong-ku, the author of [Lessons with a Sculptor] and a first-generation sculptor, during a lecture

* * * *

As the blue night sky began to descend in the evening.

On the road leading out of the outskirts of Seoul.

The truck, newly painted with a large decal reading [Seok's Furniture Store], slowly moved forward.

It was a weekday evening rush hour.

Stuck in the rush hour traffic heading from Seoul to the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province, the truck was barely moving.

Kang Hyun-do looked at Kang Seok with a troubled expression.

"This traffic is really bad."

"I expected it, though."

He had taken the wheel to drive Kang Seok to a place where the bus didn't go, but he couldn't avoid the rush hour.

"Are you tired? You should rest a bit."

"I'm fine."

Even though he was the one driving, his face was full of worry for Kang Seok. Kang Seok shook his head, meaning he didn't want him to worry.

There was plenty of time.

"If you're tired, it's fine for you to rest. We have to work when we get there, you know."

"I'm really fine."

The momentum for work could die and take time to reignite.

While appropriate rest was important, Kang Seok, who wanted to maintain his current state of mind for the work, refused, saying he was fine. Kang Hyun-do sighed, looking helpless.

Well, have I ever won against my son? A faint smile appeared at the corners of Kang Hyun-do's eyes.

"Alright. If you're fine, that's good. We'll be out of this traffic soon, and things will get better."

"Okay."

"Do you have a specific time you need to be there?"

"You're not the type to set a specific time."

Mr. Yang Seong-ku actually said to come whenever it was convenient and work comfortably. He wasn't a light sleeper and didn't mind what others were doing, and Kang Seok knew this was a considerable consideration.

Even in a large traditional house, he would just smile and say it was nice to hear the sound of stone again after a long time.

Sometimes, looking at him, one might wonder if he had been practicing a way of life for decades rather than just working with stone.

In any case... Kang Seok decided to enjoy this rare drive with his father. Getting frustrated and annoyed wouldn't make him start carving immediately, anyway.

Kang Seok leaned his arm on the truck window and looked outside.

His hands, hardened from recent work, caught his eye.

Looking at his hands, memories from when he was a first-year student at Cheonghua Art High School, preparing for his first exhibition, which was a joint exhibition, came to mind.

– "Hey, Kang Seok. Why are you so dedicated?"

A classmate who had dropped out asked him during work.

"Why are you so dedicated when we're both at the bottom of the class?" The classmate had changed majors three times, from sculpture to design to animation.

Having lost interest in school, he was carving a branch he had picked up from the back of the school, giggling, saying he was going to make a Harry Potter wand.

Thinking about it, he was quite a unique guy.

Getting back to the point... the classmate asked why he was so dedicated. Despite his giggling, his eyes seemed unusually serious for a 17-year-old.

He seemed to be seeking an answer.

What did I say back then?

– "I'm going to keep going down this path anyway... It's better to work hard instead of wasting time worrying and despairing."

I think I answered something like that.

Borrowing the thoughts of an old man inside me, art, whatever it is, is like that.

Art is like walking a difficult path, not knowing if it has an end or not.

Some walk, some run... and some might even fly cowardly. But everyone must keep moving forward, and anyone can get tired.

A journey where only those who keep walking endlessly survive.

Those who walk might get lost, those who run might get tired and stop, and those who fly might get bored with the wider world they see from above and take an easier path.

But if you keep going, no matter how slow, you will keep moving forward.

Even if those ahead of you get farther away, those beside you move faster, and those behind you overtake you... as long as you keep moving, you will eventually reach the end.

By continuously seeking knowledge, constantly thinking about better methods, and never stopping, anyone can move forward.

That is art.

Of course, the 17-year-old me never had such philosophical thoughts.

I hadn't developed enough to reflect on such thoughts.

At that time, I was like a bug character taking steps in place towards a dead-end wall of talent.

But the 17-year-old classmate listening to my words seemed to have a moment of realization. Whether he truly understood or not, I thought I would meet him in some form someday.

Thinking about this, I realized that the landscape outside the window was now just a dense forest. I took my hand off my chin and looked outside properly.

The truck stopped.

"Seok."

The reason for his father's affectionate call was one.

"We've arrived."

It meant they had arrived.

"Did we get here quickly?"

"What do you mean quickly? We've been driving for almost two hours... Are you not tired?"

"I'm fine."

"You look tired..."

Kang Seok tried to smile as widely as possible to reassure his father, who looked concerned.

His face was usually expressionless and often looked dark, and he didn't usually dress up, so he must have looked quite dirty and unkempt.

So, to reassure his father, Kang Seok smiled as widely as possible and unbuckled his seatbelt. Looking straight ahead, he saw that Mr. Yang Seong-ku's house was right in front.

Looking at the traditional house, which was brightly lit as if to welcome guests, Kang Seok grabbed the truck door.

"Father, why don't you come in and meet him?"

"It's fine. I met him last time, and it would be a burden to suddenly show up again. I need to go home to Mrs. Baek."

"At least take a look."

"No, I don't need to."

Kang Hyun-do gestured for him to go. Kang Seok, looking at his family's faces he would be away from for a few more days, slowly opened the truck door.

"I'll be back."

"Come back safely. It's good to work, but you should also visit home sometimes... Your mother can't see you when she's busy with the store."

"Oh."

"She says she's starting to forget your face."

Tap tap.

Kang Hyun-do tapped the steering wheel, and Kang Seok nodded.

"I'll visit before I go to Miami Beach this time."

"Alright. When are you going?"

"The exhibition starts on the 16th, so I plan to leave on the 11th or 12th. But today is November 30th, so..."

Kang Seok seemed to be thinking about something and then spoke.

"I'll visit home on the 10th or 11th."

"Don't overdo it."

"Okay, I'll really go now."

Thud.

Kang Hyun-do watched Kang Seok open the door of the traditional house and go in, smiling contentedly. He waved his hand like a balloon, in case Kang Seok looked back.

Well.

He might visit home.

Hearing Yang Seong-ku's welcoming voice through the slightly open window, Kang Hyun-do turned the steering wheel.

Thinking about it, Kang Seok's schedule wasn't easy either. He was going to participate in Art Basel in Miami, and after that, he would have to finish the sculpture by January.

'I need to think of a way to calm Mrs. Baek when I get home.'

Can't I do that much for my son who works outside? Thinking about this, Kang Hyun-do drove out of the truck and got lost in thought.

'...Now that I think about it, it might not be bad to visit Art Basel in Miami Beach.'

It was a good idea.

Excited to go home and persuade Baek Myung-hee, Kang Hyun-do drove quickly, raising the driver's window to block the wind and whistling.

It was a pleasant night.

* * * *

Under the bright lights that illuminated the dark night like the sun.

Kang Seok stood holding a grinder.

On the right was a completed sculpture of a celestial maiden with wings that seemed ready to fly into the night sky, holding two children and looking at the moon with a perfect gaze. Kang Seok turned his head.

On the left.

The sculpture he would start working on today was to be made from an unpolished block of marble on the left.

Marble.

Although it is a type of stone, marble is relatively softer and easier to process fine details compared to granite, which is more commonly used in our country and other East Asian regions.

Its hardness is relatively lower than that of granite, and its particles are much finer, making it possible to express details like hair, skin, and the texture of clothing.

This is also why most sculptors and those studying sculpture work with marble.

Additionally, its unique white color makes it beautiful to express anything.

Although marble requires many processes and time and money to preserve fine details, the reason it is still widely used is...

Because it feels like a stone sent from heaven to be carved.

Kang Seok gripped the grinder.

The figure of Yang Seong-ku watching from behind, the cameras filming from all directions, the completed sculpture of the celestial maiden holding two children, and Kang Seok's field of vision gradually blurred and disappeared.

Only the black night and the white stone remained.

A world where only three exist.

Kang Seok quietly turned on the grinder.

The sound of the spinning blade and the wind, the sensation of the sand and gravel on the ground rubbing against his shoes.

Through the vibrations of the grinder, he heard the voice of a soul trapped inside the white stone calling to him.

Kang Seok moved slowly.

His fingertips, filled with calluses, seemed to be reaching into the stone. His hands, full of hardened skin, were stretched out as if trying to grasp something desperately.

Kang Seok's grinder touched the stone.

With a sound like water being sprayed from a hose, white powder scattered into the air, decorating the night sky in place of the stars that had disappeared into the lights.

Kang Seok's hands moved, carving the night sky and the marble simultaneously.

Continuously, without pause.

His hands moved precisely towards a point as if there was something inside the marble. It was as if he was holding a drill instead of a grinder.

'If he's going to carve like that, it wouldn't be bad to buy him a drill or a set of tools next time.'

Yang Seong-ku, with his white beard, watched intently.

Kang Seok, with his left foot on the end of a ladder, his right foot on the marble as if he had climbed several steps at once, was pushing the grinder deep into the marble.

Under the white lights used for drama filming, his brown eyes shining as he carved the marble, he looked very similar to the meme of a "marble cutter" circulating on the internet.

White powder splattered between his white goggles and dust mask.

It decorated the night sky again.

The chat room, which looked like Kang Seok was carving the night sky and the marble simultaneously, burst with super chats silently, like fireworks.

The sound of the grinder and the carving was loud, and the microphone was off in the live streaming room, so people were chatting in awe.

The chat from people who were disappointed followed.

Most were foreigners or people living abroad for various reasons, who couldn't easily see Kang Seok's works.

That's because all of Kang Seok's works were in Korea.

Their disappointment was understandable.

At that moment.

Less than 30 minutes after Kang Seok started the live stream.

Someone sent a super chat.

The chat room was dyed with the deeply colored text.

The chat heated up like a pan on fire due to the news someone sent.

The chat room started to go wild, as if a blockbuster movie had suddenly announced its release in the middle of winter.

The quietest frenzy in the world began in Kang Seok's live streaming room.

85. Michelangelo had to create sketches to prepare for the frescoes in the Sistine Chapel.