The Mysterious Art Museum

“All done, customer.”

The alleyways of Ikseon-dong, Jongno.

What used to be just a densely populated residential area has, over the past few years, become a street frequented by many people, especially on weekends, thanks to the pretty shops that have sprung up in every alley.

I am a street artist in this area, setting up my spot in front of a house without a shop on the first floor, painting portraits for passersby.

“Oh my, is this really me? You’ve drawn me so beautifully!”

A woman in her twenties, expressing her joy upon receiving the drawing I handed her, showed it to her boyfriend who had been waiting and said.

“Doesn’t it look good? Do you think it looks like me? What do you think?”

Her boyfriend, who had been leaning against the wall engrossed in his phone the entire time I was drawing, seemed disinterested in the portrait and pulled out a designer wallet.

“How much do I owe you?”

I looked up at the man, dressed in clearly expensive clothes and wearing a luxury watch I could only dream of, and bowed my head.

“It’s 25,000 won, customer.”

The man opened his wallet and handed me a 50,000 won bill.

“Here.”

“Oh, your change. Just a moment.”

Do I even have enough change? I might just have enough if I combine all the thousand won bills. Will he be upset if I give it all in small bills? I sat down, straightened my legs, rummaged through my pockets, and pulled out crumpled bills to make the change.

“Here’s your change…”

Gone.

Both the woman and the man. They had already walked quite a distance, the woman arm-in-arm with her boyfriend. At least the woman seemed to want to say goodbye, turning around while linked to her boyfriend’s arm, and waved at me.

“Hey, over here.”

I held up the change, signaling them to take it. But the woman just smiled and waved it off.

I heard the woman say as they walked further away, arm-in-arm.

“You liked the drawing, that’s why you tipped, right? Good job.”

“That’s not why I tipped.”

“Then why?”

“Just felt sorry for them standing out in the cold like that.”

“Oh…”

Tip.

It’s still a foreign concept in our country, but surprisingly, many people do tip. Some for liking the drawing, others, like that man, out of pity, leaving more than a small change.

I quietly looked at the change in my hand, then crumpled it up into my pocket.

Does it hurt my pride?

What a joke. I don’t have such pride left.

To me, both the woman who liked my drawing,

And the man who showed no interest in it and left a pity tip,

Are all people I’m grateful to.

You can dig all day, but you won’t find a thousand won in the ground.

I roam the alleys of Ikseon-dong all week.

Why don’t I stick to a fixed spot? Isn’t it obvious?

This is in front of someone’s house. It’s only natural for a homeowner to dislike having a peddler set up right in front of their door. I have to move spots several times a day.

Even now, the homeowner has been glaring at me over the wall for a while. I smiled amicably and bowed.

“Finished drawing. I’ll get up now.”

In fact, the homeowner said something while I was drawing the woman, but I begged for a little more time to finish the portrait.

I packed my tools in a bag, collected my folding chair and easel, and walked down the alley.

Once out of the crowded alley and in a quieter area, I checked my earnings for the day.

“50,000 won, 100,000 won... a total of 125,000 won. Today was a good day.”

Fridays are profitable. On weekdays, it’s hard to even make 50,000 won. There have been days when I waited over 10 hours and didn’t earn a single penny, while days like today, I work a few hours and earn a substantial amount. Of course, this luck is limited to Fridays and Saturdays.

“That’s it for today.”

This should cover the cost of the materials I use at my precious home, which is also my studio. I’ve paid my rent last week, so I should be comfortable for a while. Today, I want to give myself a bit of a break too.

“Phew.”

Between the alleys, the beautiful moon visible through the gaps in the roofs of the residential area.

I gazed at the round moon shining in the black sky for a while, then took off the hat I had been wearing all this time.

I thought no one was around, but two women passing by me glanced at my face and whispered to each other.

"Wow, he's handsome."

"Why does he dress like that with such a face? Looks like a beggar."

"Hey, be quiet. He can hear us."

"Giggle, let's go."

Yes, I can hear you all.

I ran my fingers through my hair, heavily flattened by the hat. But my hair, pressed down all day under the hat, was greasy and stuck to my head. I had washed my hair with water in a public restroom, wiped it with tissue, and shook it out with my hands, so it looked somewhat presentable.

No one paid attention to me in my black tracksuit covered in paint and the hat pressed down on my head.

I wandered through the crowd like a ghost, feeling unusually happy to be out.

The surroundings quieted down a bit when I reached the park in front of the Jongmyo Public Parking Lot.

I took out my phone and called my mom.

-Yes, son.

"Mom, it's your second son."

-Of course, my son. How was your day?

"It was luckier than usual. I've already finished work and I'm on my way home."

-That's good, things will get even better for you, my son.

"How is brother?"

-He's just in his room.

"Is he reading Braille books?"

-No, he's listening to the radio in his room. Should I change it for him?

"No, I'll see him when I get home. Did the basic living allowance for this month come in okay?"

-Yes, that and your brother's disability assistance came in too.

"Okay, I can send about 400,000 won home this month, so use it for living expenses."

-You don't have to do that every time, it's hard for you too. The two of us are fine with the money we get from the government.

"Brother likes meat, use it to buy him some pork belly"

I used my brother as an excuse, but in reality, it's mom who loves pork belly the most.

If I tell her it's for her, she won't accept it, so I always have to use my brother as an excuse. That's the only way she'll take it.

-That's great, he will love it. I'll make sure to buy it and cook it for him.

"Okay, I'll call again, mom."

-Okay, my son. Thank you always.

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