Exaggeration.

This is the only feeling that "Tokyo" gives to the first floor of Yamauchi.

Yes.

It's an exaggeration.

Whether it is the misty overall picture, the brushstrokes, or the pedestrians in Tokyo who are stretched by light and shadow, the word 'exaggeration' is revealed.

Everything on the screen seems crumbling.

Everything takes on the illusion of drunkenness.

Exaggerated – but also based on reality.

That's really the rhythm of Tokyo today.

The city is so pompous that it doesn't even seem to be able to see that it has just come out of the financial crisis...

And under the exaggerated brushstrokes, it is suppressed by the cold color, no... It is the exaggerated style of the overall oil painting that is suppressed by a single figure.

It was a middle-aged man.

A decadent middle-aged man who looks so realistic in the distorted and exaggerated figures and scenery of Tokyo.

After a day's work, he leaned on the telephone pole tiredly, half-bowed his head, and the fire in his eyes had already dissipated.

Maybe he was very enthusiastic and dreamy before.

But now... His dreams have long been wiped out by Tokyo, and his blood has lost its temperature, turning into a member of the noisy Tokyo.

His lips pursed, as if he was unwilling, and there was a look of extreme pain on his face.

"Why is my life so hard?"

He seemed to say this.

Perhaps in the eyes of middle-aged people in oil paintings, Tokyo is a place where dreams can be realized, and there is gold everywhere.

But that's the kind of place... But why can't you share even a little dream with him?

The heartbeat on the first floor of the mountain was agitating, and looking at this decadent middle-aged man, a touch of fire inexplicably appeared in his heart.

Just give up? Can't you fight it again?

He was tempted to say that.

But there's no way...

This is also the helplessness of reality.

The Tokyo pedestrians next to him wouldn't even look at him... Because there are so many drunks in Tokyo.

Contrast with the warm colors of the exaggerated Tokyo streets, contrast with the ridicule of pedestrians, and contrast the warm colors with the cold colors of the middle-aged people's miserable whiteness...

The sense of picture rises in front of the first floor of Yamauchi.

Looking at the middle-aged man in the oil painting, the memories of the first floor of Yamauchi also came to my heart.

That was more than twenty years ago.

Yamauchi, whose family is poor, has only a talent in art on the first floor, which is commendable.

In order to finish college, the two older sisters in the family gave up their high school studies.

But at that time, it was also the period of bubble economy, and the Japanese economy was crumbling, the society was in turmoil, and all the people outside were wandering unemployed homeless people.

Under such circumstances, it is undoubtedly very difficult for the two older sisters, who are women, to find jobs.

They had to rely on casual jobs on the streets of Tokyo to support their younger brother Yamauchi's education on the first floor.

The bitter days were swallowed into the stomach of the first floor of the mountain with the wind and snow in winter, and he could only bury his head in painting and paint seriously.

Dedicate the whole world to painting -

He didn't dare to look behind him, because he knew that behind him was the world that his two sisters had dedicated.

But it's also a pressure.

The eldest sister and the second sister pressed their lives on the first floor of Yamauchi without asking for anything in return.

"I remember that winter." Looking at "Tokyo" on the first floor of Yamauchi, he whispered to himself, "Two older sisters picked me up from university. It just so happened that when I passed by Tabata North Exit Station, the clock in the platform square of the station rang twelve o'clock, and the eldest sister went to a roadside stall to buy three bowls of soba noodles... The three of us ate while sheltering from the snow under the canopy in the station square. ”

"The snow is heavy... The wind is biting. Thinking back to my sister's sourness in the past year, I cried while eating noodles... Like a little kid. The two sisters next to me also had sour noses, but they only smacked twice and didn't cry... Snowflakes were falling everywhere, and I just looked up and saw the name of the platform square clock. ”

There was inexplicable emotion in Yamauchi's voice on the first floor.

"The name of that clock is 'Hope.'"

The middle-aged active painter on one side also recovered from the inexplicable atmosphere brought by "Tokyo".

After hearing the words of the first floor of Yamauchi, he also opened his mouth, and then he couldn't say anything.

'Hope'...

A lot of mixed words.

Especially in those difficult times, the term is even more complicated.

"This 'Tokyo' is really good."

The first floor of Yamauchi commented softly.

Needless to say, the technique is naturally exaggerated and decadent, and the completely different styles coexist at the same time, which is enough to show the author's old spiciness.

More importantly, it blends the author's own understanding of Tokyo.

In the eyes of that author, this is the kind of Tokyo under his eyes.

There is hope, there is disappointment, there is helplessness, there is also reality...

But it doesn't matter how many people or how many faces, this is Tokyo.

It's all Tokyo.

Unlike Akira Kuronomiya's "Upper Beijing", this painting provoked the emotions of the four painters present.

Yes, at some point, they were all attracted to this "Tokyo".

Who didn't become famous?

Look at them on the outside, but in fact they have also compromised for reality I don't know how many times.

But that's life...

No one's life can be smooth sailing.

Even billionaires with a lot of money will always have times when things don't go their way.

A good painting is hard to bury.

At least "Tokyo" belongs to one such painting.

From this, the judges present actually felt life.

"There really is such a dark horse."

The middle-aged active painter also muttered to himself.

Yes, if just now he was a big fan of Kuronomiya Akisa's "Uekyo", then now he is a die-hard fan of "Tokyo".

It's still the kind of fan who wants to go up and reason with the other party if he says the word 'no'.

Even if they tried to offend Kuronomiya Misa and her teacher Yamauchi, the middle-aged active painter decided to vote for the gold reward for "Tokyo".

This is his work ethic.

After all, the quality of "Tokyo" is here, surpassing "Shangjing" by a large margin.

But at the same time, the middle-aged active painter was also a little curious: "Speaking of which, this is the student of the five major art academies?" That's a lot of power..."

As he spoke, his eyes looked upward, followed by a muttered voice:

"Kitagijuku Private High School... Tsukasa Higashino? ”

High school?

Kita-Gijuku?

Tsukasa Higashino?

The combination of these key words makes the middle-aged active painter think of one thing.

He opened his mouth wide and was completely stunned: "Wait a while?!" Isn't this the author who won the gold prize in the student category? He also competed in the adult category?! ”

Where is this dark horse!

It's a Pegasus!

A high school student who has not received a systematic education from a university can actually draw a work of this level?

"It's great... This, this is not right... Could it be that he found someone to paint it for him? It's impossible..."

Middle-aged active painters are a little unacceptable.

If "Tokyo" is indeed painted by Tsukasa Higashino...

"Then there may be a genius in this world..."

Someone couldn't help but whisper.

Oh, yes...

This... It is impossible for a genius to draw a work of this level in high school.

I can't tell.