Snow Witch'S Journey
City of painters

What is the meaning of a painting?

Is a painting a visualization of form and matter created in nature, or an idea conceived before the creation of a material?

Or even mean deeper and more complex values in the whole life of living things?

Or is the painting like food? Has a variety of different flavors, sensations and tastes for anyone who eats it.

I thought about what I shouldn't think. However, as I devoured the new taste, I began to digest what, why or how the content in the taste was to be explained. Through the sensitive point of my tongue and innocent mind, I nodded at an understanding I did not understand, but could enjoy.

This morning in the city, it felt very different to the places I had visited before. Different speech, different morning conversations, different trivial problems and different consumption. Totally different.

In this city, I feel a turmoil that is equally different. Every city is full of stormy ideas that are bobbing in the center of their minds. Thinking about it like his idea was so difficult, especially by applying it in a streak of color on a white sheet. That's what happens every morning in this city. City of painters.

Almost all residents in the City of Painters work as a painting artist, even the rules that apply here prefer to paint. I've heard of this city before, but I can't believe it's more artsy than I thought.

All the famous paintings, come from here. From the heads of those who are forced to extort all those ideas. The price of a single painting could reach hundreds of Silver Pengrium or dozens of Gold Pengrium. I was relieved that they still accepted Pengrium, instead of painting as their medium of exchange.

Regardless of how important a painting is as a major commodity, this city I admit is quite beautiful. Each painting is on display throughout the estate, depicting each owner. Everything has a different impression, but still beautiful, at least for me. Especially a white tree in the middle of the city.

Aeron said, the tree is a White Maple Tree. The symbol of this city which is the first object for the painting of the founder of this city. I've never seen a white tree before, other than snow. It keeps me glued in its shadow. The leaves are lodged in my hat, like giving me a goosebumping feeling of the beauty of the world.

I looked at the squirrel that crept from branch to branch, then turned to look at me with his little eyes. That squirrel must have understood what I was feeling. May her little body be able to absorb all the meaning that the world gives. Finally, the squirrel goes into its safe hiding from all the burdens of the mind, or because of the sound of scratches and muttering of someone behind the painting board that makes the squirrel leave.

“Hei,” call me. The man ignored me, busy with his paintings. I approached him. “Hey, did you make me the object of your painting? I really appreciate it, but wouldn't it be rude if you didn't ask permission first?”

The young man was flabbergasted, “For the sake of Mervan ink! You are more beautiful when you look up close! I've never seen an object as beautiful as you, miss.”

“Thank you.” He was smart to praise. I'll forgive him.

“I'm sorry for my actions, miss. I'm Charley. Actually ... I was looking for an idea for my painting outside, and I accidentally found you. I was impressed with all the beauty that Miss had. My body immediately reacted and poured it on my painting sheet, could it?”

“No, miss. Your beauty that you give as an object is enough for me,” he replied.

“Alright, then what should I do?”

"Just look up, sky or tree branches. As you did before.”

No need to wait as long as my letters, the man shouted finished very loudly. My position with him is actually quite far away. I even wondered if he could paint me at this distance. I only stood for about 30 minutes while he was painting. It was very fast or maybe because I was too enjoying the beauty of snowflakes that match the fallen maple leaves.

“By my view?” my door. Before I could see it, Charley immediately drew the painting and tried to get it out of my sight.

“No! The results are not appropriate! We'll start all over again!”

“But I want to see the results first.”

“Sorry, miss, but I can't show you a work I don't like.”

Is it that bad as the painting? Doesn't giving others the opportunity to see it and assess a work give new perspectives and suggestions? Or maybe he's the type of person who doesn't believe in himself. I never thought there was such an artist in this town. From the books I read and my mother's story, artists should be confident in their work, right? Everyone has a different style and by proud of the results of his hands does not it mean showing his sincerity and purity of love in the field he is engaged in? I hope I'm not wrong.

“Nona .. can you come here for a minute?”

I approached him as soon as he called me.

The man slightly turned his face away from me. Cover a white canvas on a wooden board with three legs. There's a shame she's trying to hide from me. I can see it. That's very clear. But, in his honor, I waited for him to gather courage and say it straight away.

“So, look .. Soon, the city will hold an annual painting competition. This race is very important to us painters. Therefore, bi-can't .. miss .. help me sam-till race day. I-I mean, because the lady looks so beautiful. The embodiment of beauty if I may be honest, I am sure the beauty of the lady will produce perfect work. Miss need not worry. If I win, the prize will be split by two.”

Now it's all clear. This guy in front of me is trying to use me. He realized that I could be useful to his interests, and then issued all the praise to seduce me, to make me submissive in his grasp. I-i know. He's a guy who likes to use women. Though from the way he dressed, his neat blue long-sleeved coat with a white ribbon around his neck made me think he was a polite or respectable man. People say, don't judge a book by its cover. Even the best cover doesn't prove it will be worth the same. Maybe because of that, I was careless at his flattery. But, there's one thing I want to ask for an explanation.

“Gift you mean ... what is it?”