Art Trade (1)

‘- it was a beautiful castle, like the ones that we heard of when we were children. Pure white stone and marble arches, just like a dream. Even the surrounding moat was so pretty, decorated with green lilies blooming pink lotuses, and cranes with crowns of red feathers. If only you could see it for yourself!

I’d go on, but I think I’d clutter the rest of this paper with my gushing. Just know that my stay there was heavenly, that’s enough! Now, I have to grace you with one of my musings that I created while I was there, staring out my window at the birds flying about. I put a lot of effort into it, I hope you know:

Mr. Crane, where are you flying to?

Is it to deliver your picked flowers to Mrs. Crane? –‘

The letter goes on; however, Yue decides that’s enough for now. He lets out a faint chuckle, touching his fingertips lightly against the stanzas of his sister’s poem. She always had a way with words, he’d tell her. Yue thinks that he’ll leave the poem for now, perhaps save it for the night before he goes to bed. Maybe then her words would reach his dreams, and he really would see the scene that she described.

For now, he lets out a yawn, setting down the parchment and stretching out his arms. He looks over to take a peek outside, blinking his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the sun. Afternoon already? He can hear Mei’s nagging voice at the back of his head.

Really, Yue? You already missed breakfast, you’re not missing lunch also. At this rate, you’re gonna be just skin and bones!

His lips curl up into a smile at those words, wondering if his sister is happy that he’s at least going to eat his lunch today. Before he does that though, Yue thinks he’d like to start a new project first.

Getting up from his chair, he makes his way through the door and into his work room, settling down at his work station. His room is modest but spacious, with his supplies neatly organized around his canvas.

Yue slowly sets up around his canvas, pulling out paper, brushes, inkstick, inkstone, all in a fluid manner that suggested that this was a process that he has done time and time again. Lastly, he gets up to draw water in a small stone bowl, returning to his station and setting it next to everything.

He transfers a sheet of paper onto the canvas, stretching to smooth it out, before sitting back and looking over his supplies. Approving of the set-up, Yue nods to himself and reaches out to pick up a brush, dipping it in water, and then dabbing it lightly against a red swatch of ink.

Yue smiles to himself as he brings his brush to the paper, swirling it to create little red circles on the paper, followed by languid black strokes that painted out long wings that stretched out across the canvas.

Red crowned cranes, hm? Yue thinks to himself. The picture that Mei painted for him certainly gave much inspiration, and perhaps he can breathe some life into her words. Yue hums a quiet tune to himself as he continues to paint, his mind lost in the image of black-tipped feathers against marbled white arches.