Artwork Dump Novels & Stories

Min-a remarked, folding his hands across his chest. “Contact another artist. What’s so special about him anyways?” he frowned in displeasure. “You don’t know Kwan Seung-ho? He is the heat of the season! Every Advertising Company big or small wants to sign in. Dad is crazy about his work. His mini-art project went viral on Cyworld and he sold three of them for 200 million won each. His design keeps getting higher in demand because of how outlandish the internet thinks it is, and he is currently refusing to even lease to Art Galleries. He is on this high horse he won't come down from.” Eun Hye stressed, complaining about the complication she was facing with signing Seung-ho under their family

I might not have been able to compare to Stacy's old-money wealth, but I wasn't far from her. Now, after my ex-company director, Titus Carlson, heard that I was planning to create my own brand and found a new company for it, he immediately showed interest and said that he was willing to invest in me. I finally returned to the workforce after many years and quickly realized how much recognition and affirmation I got ever since leaving Stacy and Tammy. After my date with Daryl at the science center, Mom and Dad suddenly invited me back home for dinner. I didn't bring Daryl with me in case he felt too awkward with them. To my surprise, Tammy was also there for dinner.

Deciding that I needed to take a second, I clicked on it and while the page started loading, I gulped down the rest of the mango juice, needing to feel the cold drink going down my throat to feel somewhat better. My parents’ hand-writings reminded me about the times I’d spent here with them. I used to study and draw while they worked on some pack’s works. As I grew up, my father started showing me methods of working on different paper works related to the pack. Gulping, I cleared up my throat and focused back on the screen. The artifact had been uploaded on the net in the form of images. That was a decision made by the Moon Howlers so as to always have a record of their writings… and their h

An artist I've never heard of, with a page full of paintings that make my stomach drop. It has the same color palettes, the same emotional themes, the same compositions, the fire-and-flowers motif, the broken-open chest, the bird trailing sparks, everything. But TrueCanvas's posts have timestamps that appear to predate mine by weeks. According to the internet, I didn't create these images. I copied them, and the comments are turning on me fast. "She's a fraud." "TrueCanvas did it first." "Gianna Meyers is a thief." "Can't believe I followed this person."

"Okay, this artwork is called ‘Disintegrating Reality.’ Quite a unique name, if I should say so myself." Julian turned his gaze to Leslie, his lips tilting up at her eagerness. The MC unveiled the painting, and gasps could be heard throughout the entire auditorium. Leslie’s eyes widened in horror as they landed on her painting. The beautiful piece she’d spent weeks creating was marred with a disgusting green, runny liquid that looked a lot like green dye or paint perhaps. "Ugh, what is it?" the MC questioned, repulsed. "Is this a joke arranged by the organizers?"

Tell me. Chloe carefully unrolled a large sheet of paper on the grass. It showed a big vision board full of drawings, paint colors, and little notes in her nice handwriting. This is my dream gallery, Chloe said with excitement, her cheeks a bit red. A gallery for local artists, a place where anyone can show their art, no matter their background. Michelle sat next to her, looking at the drawings closely. Chloe, this is amazing. I thought maybe... one day, Chloe said softly, when I have enough money, when I feel brave enough.

It was an international number. "Hello, is this Ms. Estelle Blackwood? We are the most renowned independent art publishing house in Falden. We came across some of the works you previously posted online and would like to acquire your series." I froze for a moment. That institution in Falden was one of the top in the industry, with extremely high standards. I had submitted to them three times before and never even received a reply. For them to approach me out of nowhere, it was most likely Enzo's doing.

He asked me. “I would like to go through both, but I promise to be quick,” I told him. Robert Oldwick showed me the new collections, but something inside of me knew that I hadn’t seen what I was looking for. “What about the old ones?” I asked him. “We have them catalogued now because most of them have been taken down,” he explained before showing me the collections in their computer. And that was when one of the artworks caught my eye…I had seen a replica of it in that art room I stumbled into in Steven Noble’s residence.

I know. I grab the remote of the medium-sized TV hanging on the wall, switching it on. Perhaps a little distraction will help, but my jaw drops at the first image on display. The video coverage of my wedding is on display with the huge caption: BUSINESS TYCOON PATRICK BAXTER'S DAUGHTER DITCHED AT THE ALTAR. No... no, this isn't right.

"In a shocking turn of events, Lumina Gallery, a prominent art institution, finds itself in the midst of a crisis as both its Director and Curator face arrests over allegations of embezzlement and art fraud. The gallery, known for its dedication to promoting contemporary art, is now grappling with a scandal that has forced its closure. The gallery's Director, Moises Russell, and Curator, Gia Brantley, were taken into custody following an investigation into financial irregularities and the sale of duplicate paintings within the gallery. Authorities allege that the duo embezzled a significant amount of money from the gallery's funds and engaged in the illegal sale of replicated artworks, decei