The Versatile Master Artist

People involved in the situation are often confused, while onlookers see things clearly.

Now is a good time for him to understand himself and no longer be confused.

”So Mr. Gu, there’s really nothing to fear, is there? All we need to do is paint our own paintings well and leave the rest alone. Do good deeds, and don’t ask about the future.”

Every artist, when they first pick up a paintbrush, is like a child in a watchtower looking at the stars.

In their youth, whether guided by teachers or casually by chance, they look up and catch sight of the magnificent and captivating beauty of the art galaxy.

And from then on, they are captivated for a lifetime.

Later, as they continue to grow, attend school, sign with galleries, participate in exhibitions, and achieve success and fame, it feels like they are climbing higher and higher on the watchtower, passing through layers of evening mist, getting closer to the stars.

Yet too many, while climbing, mistakenly consider the act of climbing the watchtower itself as the pursuit.

When the clouds and mist disperse.

They become obsessed with comparing their status on the tower, neglecting to look up and appreciate the silent, breathtaking beauty of the starry sky.

A painter in a lifetime encounters too many things that make people anxious, determining hierarchy based on seniority on the tower, comparing many things.

Comparing teachers, comparing connections, comparing luck.

Comparing whose gallery and media relations are better, whose marketing and promotion capabilities are stronger. Comparing who is favored by a renowned art critic. Comparing, among all accomplished painters, who can make it to the cover interview of ”Oil Painting” magazine...

There are too many external conditions beyond the painter’s control.

The quality of the artworks is just a small link in this long chain of comparisons.

People who are helpless are always restless, just a tiny speck of dust swept along by the vast currents.

Those who fail want to succeed, and those who succeed fear losing.

Painters who can calm themselves are usually devout believers in art itself, seeking within themselves when they cannot achieve.

Letting the world change, and seas turn into mulberry fields.

All they want is to paint their own paintings well.

”Shengzi, even I can’t quite distinguish whether when I first picked up the brush in my youth, it was for myself or to make my grandfather happy. Wouldn’t that be somewhat impure?” Gu Weijing asked.

”Van Gogh and Goya once wanted to become priests, Manet wanted to be a lawyer, and when Reyno switched to painting, it was simply because it paid better than being an apprentice in an Eastern porcelain store. As long as you have a pure desire to paint well, why you picked up the brush doesn’t matter.”

”Becoming a great painter like my father is also a motivation for my painting!”

Koizumi Katsuko compassionately rested her cheek against Gu Weijing’s chest, deliberately using herself as an example, ”Our desire to paint well is originally composed of many factors.”

She understood because of the differences in the original family.

At times, Gu Weijing seemed like a dedicated artist, yet sometimes like a frightened child, always worried about being inferior to others.

”Gu Weijing, you’re truly an outstanding person. If it weren’t for you, I might still be painting empty and dull works. My past life was like a glass marble, and meeting you, this marble finally gained a spiral of rainbow in the center. You’re the bright color in my heart. Ten thousand Koshiba Tarous could not compare to this. What is there to fear or be ashamed of?”

”Fear...”

Gu Weijing felt the warmth transmitted from the smooth skin on his chest, Shengzi’s body was warm, as if becoming a pool of hot water, wanting to melt into his body.

”You asked about my greatest desires and fears. Shengzi, would you be willing to hear what my fears are?”

Miss Shengzi, lying on his chest, gently nudged, ”As long as you’re willing to tell me, I’m always willing to listen. However, I might have already guessed it.”

”I’m afraid of failure.”

Gu Weijing gently stroked Shengzi’s hair.

”Since there are so many aspects of a painter’s destiny beyond his control, or even beyond the control of the artworks themselves, what if I truly cannot reach the pinnacle of art? What then? Your mother asks us to support each other moving forward, but what if I can’t?”

Shengzi said, do good deeds, and don’t ask about the future.

But this is not easy for Gu Weijing.

Asking a sensitive person to share their greatest fears, their deepest cowardice with others is like asking them to bare themselves entirely.

But Miss Sakai was so gentle that he was willing to share these deeply buried emotions with her.

”Did my mother threaten you?” Shengzi frowned slightly.

”Not really, your aunt once set certain goals for me, and if I achieved them, she agreed to let us be together. Since then, she hasn’t mentioned it again, but I can tell that in your mother’s heart, Shengzi’s other half must be an extremely brilliant man. I can paint well, but whether I’m brilliant is something beyond my control. If I can’t do it, I think she’ll be very disappointed.”

Gu Weijing said softly.

”She won’t.” Miss Sakai shook her head.

”Do you really think I will succeed? So you have that much confidence in me.” Gu Weijing smiled.

Koizumi Katsuko reached out her hand, smoothing the edges of his brows, which were furrowed beneath the visor due to worry.

”No, Mr. Gu, I mean, whether you shine brightly or not, you’re my lover. If you truly cannot reach high places, you’re still my lover. I care about you; whether you achieve success and fame is not the foundation of our relationship. If you can’t dazzle the world, you can still be my rainbow.”

The girl seemed to recall something.

She smiled slightly and playfully whispered to Gu Weijing’s ear, ”If you’re really worried about my mom, here’s a secret for you. My mom is actually a sharp-tongued, soft-hearted person, much more emotional than she appears. As long as you truly try, she won’t hold it against you.”

Emotional?

Gu Weijing recalled Professor Cruz, who had imperiously told him in the office that he was not allowed to touch her daughter if his work didn’t sell for ten thousand US dollars.

He couldn’t associate that sharp tongue with the word ”emotional.”

”Let me tell you a story. I mentioned before, my father faced a similar problem when he was young. His mindset was much like yours: failing, judged by critics, self-doubting, all feeding into a vicious cycle. At that time, he only had a six-month contract with Ota Art Gallery. Japanese grand galleries are more competitive than European ones, signing long-term contracts, but typically they have the right to terminate the contract unconditionally after the first six months. If they can’t push it forward with some resources, they quickly kick you out without allowing you to exploit their gold-lettered signboard.”

”So behind every successful Japanese painter are piles of failed aspirants’ bones. My father nearly became one of those artists abandoned by the gallery.”

”For a painter without foundational support like him, obtaining a contract with a grand gallery like Ota Art Gallery was extremely difficult. But if he messed it up, no other gallery owner would give him a second chance. His life was tied to that contract of dozens of pages, and he was gradually losing that contract.”

”That was the darkest half-year of my father’s life. He was criticized by art critics, the gallery withdrew its promotion, and when he wanted to participate in the Yokohama Art Exhibition, he was even rejected in the beginner’s preliminary selection. Later, his confidence collapsed, he often stared blankly at his canvas for hours, his mind empty, even unable to draft.”

”At first, his agent invited a psychologist for him, but then the agent gave up on him. My mother took him to Asakusa Temple to offer prayers. That’s when that conversation with the Zen Master took place—”

Koizumi Katsuko spoke calmly, telling the story.

Gu Weijing listened intently.

He had vaguely heard on the internet that before Uncle Sakai became famous, he was criticized by critics for having no distinctive style.

He just hadn’t imagined that Sakai Ichiro, now 440 pounds in weight, valued over his weight in gold, endlessly successful, was once so down and out.

”What happened afterward? Your father listened to the Zen Master’s sermon and attained enlightenment, also quite spiritually gifted.” Gu Weijing remarked in admiration.

”Not really. Didn’t I tell you? He didn’t believe in any of the Kyoto monks’ teachings, thinking the elder Zen Masters were all talking nonsense.”

Koizumi Katsuko tilted her head.

”At that time, he ordered a pot of charcoal online. He decided to die the day he received the gallery’s termination notice.”