As Shen Riqui listened, her heart seemed to have a glimmer of clarity, yet it was filled with contradictions.She knew that this path was not destined to be easy, but if she gave up her art, what would she lose?
"You once said that true art is created for oneself," Lin Ò continued, "You were once shocked by Su Chen's paintings because his expression of emotion touched you.Your own paintings have such power."
Shen Rihai's eyes flashed and she whispered, "But if I keep painting and never be seen, is there any meaning to my art?"
Lin Òài replied gently, "The confusion you are experiencing right now is precisely the process of creating art.You have to believe that art doesn't have to be seen to have value.It is a dialog between you and the world, and even if no one hears it, it is still a spiritual exchange between you and yourself."
Shen Riqiu fell silent, and the scene in front of her seemed to gradually become clearer.She began to realize that perhaps she had been pursuing approval from the outside world, but had forgotten to ask herself - what was it that she really wanted to express?
Shen Rihui's life in the town slowly quieted down, as if by an invisible warm hand that gently smoothed out all the creases inside.
Every morning, she pushed open the white wooden door of Margaret's house and heard the doorbell ring softly, a string of cheerful melodies jumping in the air - it was the melody of You Are My Sunshine, melodious and soft, as if it had been specially prepared for her.It was a new doorbell she had found at a yard sale and given to Margaret as a gift.
Armed with her painting supplies, she walked down the cobbled path through the rows of flower-filled courtyards to the small square in the center of town.The sun was warm as it poured down on her, and the smell of coffee, bread, and fresh grass mingled in the air.The benches along the square were often filled with elderly sunbathers and children chasing and playing by the fountain.
She buys fresh fruits and vegetables at the grocery store, and Margaret's daughter, Zoe, is always behind the counter, waving at her and calling her with a smile, "Hey, Sunflower!"
Sometimes Zoe would even sneakily slip her an apple wrapped in red ribbon with a wink and say, "For good luck."
Shen Riqiu smiled and took it, taking these small tenderness into her heart.
As the days passed, Shen Riqui also got to know quite a few people in the town.
Besides Zoe, she also got to know Carla, the owner of the grocery store, a woman who always wore big earrings and had a loud voice, and who was Margaret's niece; Mr. Beck, the janitor of the town library, an old gentleman who liked to sneak cookies behind the shelves; and Nate, a young man who repaired the boats at the marina, and who was always humming a song as he wiped down the old boards and said hello to every passerby:"Hey, what a great day."
Everyone has their own story, and everyone accepts her as one of their own.
Here, no one cares if you're a famous painter or asks about your past.
They only cared that you had a good day and that there was no new progress in your painting.
Shen Rihui silently thought in his heart, perhaps the most important thing in life is not to be understood or appreciated, but that someone cares about your existence.
The tail of spring is hidden in the fine and dense rain of the town.
Shen Riquelike sat at the window seat of the forest cafe, her fingertips gently rubbing the cup, the aroma of warm coffee filled the air, the leaves of the osmanthus tree outside trembled slightly in the rain, as if whispering goodbye.
Lin Yu stood behind the bar, looking at her, his eyes gentle and secretive.