Pieces and Neuvoe

I thought about art as I watched him, not turning on a single light in the darkened room. I thought about the sound of music drifting into the void, about chocolate being my little luxury, and about the artists who have stood by our side. They were sometimes misunderstood or belittled. They were sometimes misunderstood or dismissed as shallow or selfish.  Outside, cloudy lights illuminated the unseen, and there was more injustice and unrevealed in the world. No animal movement was felt in the night in the fields where the mountains did not shield them. My stomach and all its filth, which moves even today, fades away, and the universe, which is no longer strange or special, moves on, not even for a moment out of focus. 

 I stare at the dog. I won't be here long anyway. The dog stares at me, and I know it can't hurt me because it has a cage. The dog's eyes widen slightly, looking at me. I smile coolly and look away. Outside the dog's cage is a palace where a powerful king lived during the Silla Dynasty. Behind the palace is a cafe made of hanok, and in front of the cafe is a small road. As I walk there, I think about the dog. The dog doesn't hurt me. I'm not afraid of dogs. Behind the palace, children are buying ice cream. They are carrying balloons and passing them around. I walk past the people coming and going and enter the café, where the aroma of coffee wafts through the air.  I'm not here for any great reason. I'm here for a quick trip, and the people in the palace district are calm and tidy. I glance at my watch. 3:33. I turn down a side street and enter a department store. A dog is sharpening its claws on the ground. I see it and turn around.  The dog suddenly ye...

  The light is shining through the window and I see manicured lawns and seedlings. I'm lost in this little ecological city. These small houses are accompanied by a lack of a certain sense of stability. For example, I thought of an elegant one and tried to describe the night it depicts. But then I started to notice the less dry laundry and the unturned clothes. The house is warm and toasty, and my lover is going about his daily routine without a proper meal.  I covered my face with my hands. I suddenly remembered the miso stew and ham I had for breakfast. I was looking for the most peaceful thing: an overcrowded kitchen cupboard, a sparse living room, and an unfinished interior. The light in the cupboard flickers, and I reflect on what little I've been able to accomplish. And just like that, the leaves decayed and the spring flowers bloomed.

It's not easy to write about something beautiful and free. Rather, it would be more appropriate to say that they are captivated by something, and they capture it. I'm lucky to have the right publisher, the right editor, and a handful of enlightened readers who realize that it's easier to write long than short. My novels are quite advanced in terms of breathing from beginning to end and lack nothing in terms of content, and yes, I am writing fiction to embellish. Creating boring characterization between characters is not something that is encouraged in this day and age. The gray gloomy sky has forgotten the sophisticated woman, and for such a high price, you have been scammed by the luxury brands. M was a painter with a good brush, the bigger the paintings, of course, the more awe-inspiring they are, and as I watched him tinker with his brush, I thought of a laborer toiling away at cement. She has been making it a point lately to express the natural human body. I don't t...

Pen name : Arida (Jin Park), live in South Korea I usually write in short pieces, and most of them is translated in program. Thanks to read my pieces, and if you contact me pls email to sejinpark02@gmail.com