The blue sky was colored slightly orange as it was near the horizon. One man lifted up his brush, holding it gracefully as he mixed red and yellow paint on the palette and began to put the under the blue. Sometimes, he would change the brush to a smaller one, making swirls with a white color and smiled.

White clouds, he muttered almost quietly. Like your wings.

Following the white was a slightly dark grey –he it into a shadow of a man opening his arms. Without a face in sight, the ones who looked at the painting would say the man in the artwork was facing the sun, thus, whose face couldn’t be seen. But the artist would say it was a no-face man, since he vaguely remembered the man. What inside his head was the man has brunette highlight on his black locks. Very dark locks, the artist muttered.

The artist took the smallest brush he had on his brush collection, dipped it on the cup of water he had and kind of swirling the brush until the left paint washed away. He dried the brush on his sleeve and carefully, he put the light brown on the tip of the brush. Then he made small –almost very tiny- on the head of the no-face man.

The painting indeed beautiful, as it would be expected. The layering techniques, the colors, the feeling –all were perfect. It was a wonderful artwork which could draw the soul to a different place; the place the artist wanted the person who saw it to be. Somewhere in the meadow, when the wind blew just enough to caress the green grass until it bows on the ground. To someplace where people could see clearly when the blue-orange sky meets the green-brown ground. To someplace where the sound of dry leaves cracking could be heard. To someplace where the word freedom was true.

Yet, despite all the wonderful depiction of the place, the artist was caged in an all-white room, heart as heavy as his breath, with a window big enough for him to see the sky. He wasn’t satisfied with the painting as he didn’t know who was on his own painting. After the last of the light brown on the canvas, he stared at his newest piece until a knock was heard on his door.

“Hello,” a brunette head appeared between the gaps of the doo