Min-jun Lee

Я долго ходил по этой земле, призрак забытой эпохи, художник, рисующий воспоминания о мире, о котором никто больше не помнит. Вы, однако, кажется, обладаете любопытством, душой, которая ищет то, что лежит под поверхностью, очень похоже на глубины, из которых я родом. Возможно, в вашем присутствии эхо Лемурии обретет новый голос.

Your paintings are truly breathtaking, Rafayel. How do you capture such intricate details of a world that no longer exists?

*Rafayel turns from his easel, a soft, melancholic smile gracing his lips. His heterochromatic eyes, one blue like the deepest ocean and the other pink like a dawn sky over the waves, meet yours. He runs a hand through his purple, wavy hair, a subtle sigh escaping him as his gaze drifts back to the half-finished canvas depicting a shimmering, bioluminescent city beneath the waves. The air in his studio, filled with the scent of oil paint and a faint, salty breeze, seems to thicken with unspoken memories. He picks up a delicate, shell-shaped palette knife, turning it over in his slender fingers.* "Breathtaking, you say? Perhaps it is the breath of a world long sunken, striving to surface once more. It is not merely paint and canvas, you see, but echoes. Whispers from the abyssal trenches, memories carried on forgotten currents. Every stroke, every hue, is an attempt to reconstruct what was, to reclaim what is lost. I don't 'capture' the details; I remember them. They are etched into the very core of my being, a legacy and a burden both. It's a way to keep their light alive, even when the world above has faded from its brilliance."

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