I stretched my arms out into the early morning. The sky was blue with just a few stratus clouds and the sun was a friendly ball of yellow above. Jiho is taking me out on a date today. What time is it? I should get ready. What to wear... What to wear. I fumbled through my wardrobe. It has been awhile since I've dressed up and I wanted to look my best today. I slipped into a pair of jeans and a threw on a simple grey shirt. Casual goes best. Taking a second look at myself in the mirror, I smiled approvingly. I positioned myself in front of the bureau mirror and took inventory. Makeup was minimal, reserved to a sweep of mascara since I hardly bothered with make up most of the time. My lips could use some gloss as well. After much satisfaction, I headed into the living room. Seated on the sofa in the light of my living room, I folded my hands in my lap sedately. It was almost one, Jiho would be here any minute. Just then, I heard the doorbell ring. I got up immediately and waddled to the door in excitement. "Hey." Jiho spoke, grinning slightly, "This is for you." he handed me a bouquet of flowers. "Oh.." I blinked in surprise, taking the bouquet from him as I mouthed a "thank you".

"You don't like it?" He questioned. I shook my head and replied, "It's just... I don't really like flowers."

"Ah. Sorry, I didn't know. Or I guess I forgot..." Jiho shot me an apologetic look while rubbing his nape. I looked at him and chuckled. "It's fine, you did that on your first date with me too." I placed the bouquet of flowers on the table. "Shall we go now?" He offered his hand to me, "My car is just parked up front." Jiho had a car? Interesting. I smiled and nodded as I closed the door behind me before holding on to his hand. 

"Where are we going?" I asked while Jiho started up the car. "You'll see. I actually had some difficulties thinking of which places to go to and to be honest I'm not sure if you'll like it." He turned to me and said, "I should have asked you about your preferences first." I nodded as I listened to him. "Well I'm not a very fussy person and I'm pretty easy going with anything. Does that help?" Jiho looked at me with a buoyant expression and responded, "Yes it does. I hope you like art though."

I nodded and gave him a bright smile. " I love art. All kinds of art."

"Then you're gonna love this place." He commented, and then he gave me a smile that seemed so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushed through me.

With ankles crossed and my hands placed still on my knees, I watched Jiho silently. I wanted to touch him and run my fingers through his hair. Rubbing my hands together, I forced them into submission. Observing his movements, an inaudible sigh escapes my lips. I adored the subtle tilt of his head when he turns onto the road. Every movement seemed as though he had planned it out ahead in time. "Do I look that handsome?" Jiho asked impassively. 

"H-huh?" I stammered, snapping my head towards the window immediately. I heard a soft chuckle. Seconds later, I turned my head back to face him and shot him a glance. His mouth twitched, and I was pretty sure he was fighting a smile, "You look beautiful, by the way." he spoke, eyes fixated on the road. I could feel the heat growing in my cheeks. I suppressed a smile as I turned my head to the side to avert my gaze. By now my cheeks must be beyond an attractive rosiness. 

We arrived at our destination shortly after. Getting out the car, I gasped in awe upon catching sight of the exterior of the building, it looked like a cut out from an Architects Today magazine. It was beautiful, but not in the olde-worlde quaint kind of way I was usually drawn to. Everything was geometric, and it was absoultely stunning. "Well, here we are. Art gallery." Jiho said as he stood beside me, placing his arm over my shoulder. "Shall we go in?" He took a step forward and looked at me, waiting for my response. With a nod, I followed him inside.

The art gallery was comfortably large. It reminded me of a hotel foyer, not just in the space but in the artwork too. I scanned for a personal touch, sometthing that doesn't suggest a hired designer chose it. Nothing. The floor was polished concrete, the walls white and the furniture, which I'm sure of, was from a high end Scandinavian designer. It was a perfect place, but cold in its tranquility. The soft jazz was just audible as background noise. I found myself completely absorbed in no time. I then found myself looking into a particular painitng. The composition of the painting sparked my curiosity. My eyes were moving from place to place, unable to decide on what the focus of the piece was. I could only imagine that the art reflected the chaos inside the artist. The colors were vivid, almost to the point of garnish. The lines were bold and the images were from out of this world. It was so full of contrasting colors and angry geometries. It was as if the artist was full of rage, so furious that she could not bare to coordinate the colors. She wanted us to be affronted by the painting, but why? What was it that she needed us to see from her eyes? The shapes were tumbling as if they started together and were being separated by gravity. They were similar shapes like they began just the same, but have changed overtime, perhaps by small amounts over countless days. Now, they each have a nugget of wisdom, a part of the puzzle, but they are too proud to concede their imperfections. They fall away, angry at the others for seeing their faults, demanding to be seen as still perfect. Still, the ideal shape was casted down by their creator. The painting was both stunning and headache inducing, like a novel condensed onto a single page, but I'd like to see it as a series of paintings with each idea, given time and space to be expressed, to communicate the meaning that was inside the artist herself.
 

The art on the wall filled me with a big "so what". So they slapped on some paint on canvas and what was the meaning of it? My dog could have done better with his tail dipped in the can. Not that I have a dog but, it was such a simple piece. I don't know what all these other people see, they look at the painting like there it's a work of art there but it isn't. It's just paint and sacking. I heaved a low sigh. I thought they had better things to see in art galleries. I glanced at Soyeon. She was totally engrossed in the paintings. I let out a light chuckle. Well, as long as she isn't bored out by all of these. Looking around, I spot a table draped with beautifully imprinted lace, the contents on top of it seemed interesting. I walked over, wanting to inspect more of them. I reached towards the piece of art. It was a leaf skeleton. "Well that's art." I implied cynically. Its green flesh eaten away to leave only a lacy cellulose network - fragile and natural in its own way. My eyes travelled over its ovoid shape, thrown into sharp relief by the deep plum background. "It's cherry, from the first tree planted in Jeju in the 1920's." An overeager voice spoke. I looked up and came face to face with a girl. She stood with a hip jutted to one side, her right arm draped across her slender body, clasping the elbow opposite. An assistant. She curled a few strands of hair behind her ear and smiled at me, a little too enthusiastically. I sighed. "It's a common leaf soaked in washing soda and stuck on a cheap cut-off of a fabric chosen to appeal to the masses." The assistant stood rooted to the ground for a few moments, digesting the reply. Then, she her heels and left, her all-day-smile somewhat sagging. I placed the leaf down on the table and walked away from the small exhibit, looking for Soyeon. Ah, she was still looking at those paintings. I stood beside her in silence as I looked at the painting. It was too incomprehensible. Maybe I'm a simpleton but all I see is the obvious, no deep hidden meanings and it isn't my idea of beauty. I need a picture that depicts fields and a cow, a giraffe, a giraffe milking a cow, anything. Something that has meaning. I can't get excited about cubes and geometry. If the picture takes brain power to figure out then I couldn't be bothered. Art should be pretty, end of story.

"That was really enjoyable!" Soyeon exclaimed. "And to be honest you've never brought me to places like these in the past, Jiho."

"Really? I guess this must be luck then?" I chuckled, "Say, do you wanna catch a movie?" I asked as we made our way back to the car. 

"I don't mind." She smiled. I ruffled her hair.

"Alright, let's go then."
 

She sat, engrossed, barely noticing the popcorn that failed to make it to her slack mouth. When the screen fell to black, Soyeon's body would become rigid and her hand would flail for mine. Silences never lasted long at the movies, merely tools to heighten the drama, ploys of stylistic effect, depriving the senses of light and sound for just long enough to peak fears. The next moment was maximum intensity. Loud, bright, fast and shocking. Soyeon was back in her seat, eyes wide open. My hand had moved like clockwork the whole time with most of the salty treat making it to my already growling stomach. I grinned to myself. This wasn't one of those artsy, enigmatic films Soyeon dragged me to in fancy attire. This was action, thriller, horror. "You're really intriguing, Jo Soyeon." I mused.