Almighty painter

Chapter 945 Ah, the battle has begun again!
Miss Elena set aside the materials in her hand, remaining silent as she stared intently at Gu Weijing. Her expression held an unyielding resolve, like a meteorite contained within…

A melting star.

Gu Weijing is a gentle and patient person. When he feels tired, weary, and loses his initial bright passion for things, it's like watching a flower in a glass vase gradually wither.

He reached out and grasped the dry stem, unsure of what to do.

Miss Elena was patient only with a very limited number of things, and usually, she was hardly gentle with most things. She was the kind of person who sat on a sand dune, hugging her knees, staring at the sky.

When she felt tired, weary, and had lost her initial bright passion, and someone just had the misfortune of trying to argue with her.

This is rather scary.

The flower withered and became a withered flower.

What happens when an asteroid loses its speed, its gravitational pull, and the kinetic energy that sustains its orbit? My friend, physics textbooks have already clearly given you the answer. Miss Elena will glare at the other side, using her gaze to guide the burning asteroid as it hurtles down, crashing down on the other side's big dog's head with a cool thud.

If the person on the other end was the astute Cui Xiaoming, he would already be ready to roar and run away before Anna's rage could "destroy" the place, book a plane ticket, and head to Buenos Aires.

Gu Weijing stood opposite her.

Facing Anna's cold gaze, he calmly said, "Anna, it's true that this is our art exhibition, but we can't just pretend that everyone's efforts don't exist, nor can we take everyone's efforts for granted."

"We've been hogging exhibition resources, taking up spots in galleries and the Louvre Abu Dhabi's annual art programs. Because of us—"

Gu Weijing looked at Miss Elena's expression.

He changed his wording.

"To be precise, because of me, the gallery did not hold any large-scale exhibitions throughout 2018, then in 2019, and if it is delayed further, it may be in 2020."

"How many years has the strategic cooperation agreement between the Maes Gallery and the museum lasted? We've been occupying the quota, yet we've repeatedly delayed and changed the exhibition dates. The gallery has more than one signed artist, and it doesn't just serve me. How many people are waiting for this opportunity to shine? It's not just Maes III or Dyke Anren who have objections."

“King Max III granted our requests every time, without even showing the slightest impatience. But I know very well that without you, Miss Elena, we would not have achieved this result.”

Anna felt a surge of anger rising in her chest.

The lack of understanding made her feel even angrier and ashamed than the art exhibition not going as smoothly as expected.

Miss Elena noticed that Gu Weijing glanced at her, and then the phrase "our problem" in his words changed to "my problem".

This determination to take responsibility for the problem, as if trying to show heroism, did not make Anna feel comfortable; instead, it made the woman feel irritated.

how?

Little artist, what do you mean? Do you think the reason I'm angry right now is because the core of our issue today is about whether this is "my problem" or "our problem," and who should call the sponsor to apologize?
Do you think I'm angry because I made the call for you?
Damn it.

I only said one angry sentence, "This isn't my problem," and instead of comforting me or solving the problem, you've already made such a clear distinction.

Anna wanted to point this out.

She felt very bored.

It was as if she was determined to be with him, which Miss Elena found extremely humiliating. Let him say whatever he wants; there are plenty of people in the world willing to be "us" with her anyway.

Miss Elena responded with a cold, merciless laugh.

"so what?"

"The reason they are still willing to wait, the reason why Maes III is willing to postpone the exhibition again and again, even clearing out the entire year of 2018, isn't it because he is looking forward to your perfect exhibition? The reason why Deckard Anlun jumped there, wasn't it because of his fear? He was afraid that you really had a perfect exhibition?"

"The purpose of galleries is to serve artists."

Anna flipped through the documents in her palm with her fingers.

She needed to do something to alleviate her inner anxiety.

"you did it."

"OK."

Miss Elena said with her head down, "Then it's all just as it should be. They should wait, they should hold their breath, shut their mouths, and wait quietly. If you rush to pick up some trash and carry it up, from other people's perspective, even if it's just a tiny bit of money, even if it's just a small amount like insurance and transportation fees, they will be very disappointed."

"Worthless—"

"It means that even if you spend very little money, even just a meager copper coin, it's not worth it compared to what you get."

Instead of dwelling on this, why not focus all your energy on the art exhibition?

"Focusing your energy on the exhibition?" Gu Weijing said helplessly. "If this is all the advice my agent has given me, I will take it seriously. I just want to ask her, what exactly constitutes a truly perfect exhibition? What if he has already tried his best, but this is all he can do? Please, my amazing Miss Elena, my muse, since you learn idioms so quickly, please teach me this as well..."

"When a person dedicates every minute of every day of 24 hours to the exhibition."

Gu Weijing asked.

How can he possibly refocus his energy on the exhibition?

The young man extended four fingers of both hands, bent them twice, and made a quotation mark gesture to emphasize.

As the saying goes, "One who stays near vermilion gets stained red, and one who stays near ink gets stained black." Those who are close to Anna Elena can be sharp-tongued. In the process of preparing for the exhibition over the past year, their exhibition may not have progressed as expected, but Mr. G's level of eccentricity has obviously increased day by day.

"Just one more thing."

“87,000 euros is not a ‘trivial’ sum of money. It’s more than my grandfather could earn in a year at the Maes Gallery. Remember Tonks? On the balcony of a hotel in Singapore, he told me that when he was my age, he stood in front of other people’s buildings with his briefcase, standing in the sun day after day, from morning till night, just for a few thousand pounds of curatorial sponsorship. This amount is many times that.”

"ten times."

Gu Weijing continued to bend his fingers, emphasizing "ten times".

“It’s enough to put on a really good art exhibition in a small gallery. I’m not saying we should compromise on art for financial reasons. I just think it’s unwise to change the exhibition dates when we’re not sure that a six-month or a-year delay will result in a so-called perfect exhibition.”

“I can say that I’m frustrated about it; it’s a disheartening thing.”

He said.

Anna stared at Gu Weijing, her chest heaving. Her clothes clung tightly to her body, and this time, what surged from her was not her intelligence about the art exhibition, but anger. Gu Weijing made a quotation mark gesture with his fingers, which Miss Elena interpreted as sarcasm.

If you had one of those rubber mallets from comics or cartoons that could make "stars" pop out.

She will pick it up.

DANG!

It hit the other dog on the head.

Anna started ranting.

She lectured, "Oh, you want to hear an agent's advice? Okay, then I'll tell you what real agent advice is—"

"I've already put it very tactfully. Obviously, with some people, you can only understand them if you make your words clearer."

“I’m not saying that you should put all your energy into the exhibition, or that you should devote every single minute of every 24 hours to the exhibition. Feeding the cats, watching a movie… that’s fine. But I don’t understand why you would do such trivial things when we are already too busy with our own work and the exhibition has been postponed many times.”

"Irrelevant matters, you mean going to class?"

Gu Weijing took a deep breath.

"quiet."

He told himself to be calm, just as his teacher had said to be calm and not to get angry.

"You taking Cao Xuan's class, OK. No problem, this is such a great opportunity. The art project at Kezens, no problem, that's great too..." Anna crossed her arms, "From beginning to end, no matter how tight the time was, even when I called the sponsors at three in the morning to apologize, to Maes III, when I couldn't hear their complaints and eye-rolls, I begged them to give you more time."

Have I ever accused you of this, not even by a single word?

The woman questioned.

"No."

"But I don't understand the point of you spending so much time taking porcelain classes. I don't understand even more why you, Gu Weijing, are still planning a trip to the Louvre in Paris when time is already so tight, ticking away every second."

"I see absolutely no point in these things, and I completely fail to understand whether you feel anxious or not."

Miss Elena pursed her lips.

"Didn't I express my opinion before? But you just had to go your own way."

Gu Weijing shook his head and replied, "Have I given you a sincere answer every time? But you just pretend not to hear me. I need enough inspiration, I need to be able to relax, and I think all of these things are helpful to my creative work."

"Especially for Impressionism."

"I believe it will open the door to Impressionism for me, allowing me to gain a deeper understanding of the related painting techniques. More important than technique are certain impressions that flash through my mind during life. Renoir also started as an apprentice in a porcelain shop; would anyone say to Renoir at an Impressionist exhibition—"

“Oh, sir, why did you waste so much time in the porcelain class?” Gu Weijing was very frank. “It’s not just for leisure. In my mind, it’s also a task, a task of learning. As long as I have a deeper understanding and a deeper impression of them, I know that I can paint better Impressionist works. Just like you are willing to play piano pieces for me.”

Gu Weijing put his hands together in prayer position.

“I am very, very grateful for this.”

"Could it be—" he countered, "that playing the piano doesn't seem to have any direct professional connection to being an art critic, editor, curator, or agent? Yet you still enjoy playing the piano, don't you? Miss Elena, do you also consider playing the piano a waste of time?"

The young man couldn't understand why Anna wouldn't give him more space, even though she had made everything so clear.

"Oh?"

The woman smiled.

"Speaking of which, since you asked me, the answer is—I don't know."

"I have absolutely no idea whether playing the piano is a waste of time. It's definitely not when I play the piano myself, but it's not necessarily the case when I play it for you."

“You said that the suggestion I and Maes III made to postpone the exhibition made you feel frustrated, and that it was a disheartening thing.”

Anna loosened her arms and, like Gu Weijing, raised her hands in quotation marks to emphasize her point.

"Do you know what 'frustration' is?"

"I'll play the piano for you."

The woman answered herself, "Playing the piano for you is a depressing thing. Playing the piano should make people happy, but playing it for you makes me feel depressed."

“It’s better that you’re not here than that you are. To me, playing the piano for you is no different than playing the piano for a piece of wood. To you, your attitude towards me is no different than how my great-great-grandfather treated the black singers who sang for him at lunchtime in a Viennese restaurant.”

“My great-great-grandfather treated them like lifeless jukeboxes, listening to them sing excerpts from Rossini, Donizetti, or Verdi operas. Regardless of how well or poorly they sang, he would give them a small silver coin or two as a tip after the meal.”

Anna raised her chin.

She raised her hand and pointed to the electric piano on the side.

"And you, you treat it like a lifeless, self-contained piano. As if snapping your fingers would play Debussy's piano pieces over and over again, and no matter how well or poorly you play them, you'd always end up saying..."

Miss Elena glanced at Gu Weijing.

The woman smiled sarcastically.

In a carefully crafted voice, absolutely elegant yet undeniably sarcastic, she said, "Thank you for your hard work, Anna. You played very well."

ho.

Miss Elena gently pursed her lips.

"What is this? Is this a tip you're giving me?"

"No, Mr. Gu, let me tell you. People say that Debussy's music was strongly inspired by Impressionism and is Impressionist music, but that doesn't mean you understand Impressionism just because you sit here, listen to a piano piece, and then pretend to applaud and say that someone played it well!"

(End of this chapter)