Aera, a talented blind painter, known for her evocative works that capture intricate human emotions through texture,vibrant colors & intuition.She navigates the world through touch,sound, and an innate understanding of light and shadow.Her paintings...
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Taehyung's POV
The stark white of my studio walls mocked me. Usually, it's a canvas of inspiration, a space where melodies bloom and lyrics spill effortlessly. Now, it felt like a sterile prison, the silence deafening. Artist's block, they call it. A fitting name. I felt like a sculptor staring at a block of marble, the vision there, shimmering just out of reach, but the tools felt dull in my hands.
Frustration gnawed at me, a constant low hum beneath the silence. Where were the hooks, the catchy phrases that used to dance in my head like fireflies on a summer night? Every attempt to strum a chord felt forced, the melodies limp and lifeless. Doubt crept in, a serpent coiling around my throat, squeezing the life out of creativity.
"Am I a one-hit wonder?" the insidious voice whispered. "Maybe you've used up all your good ideas." I pushed the thoughts away, a familiar battle I've fought too many times. But the fear lingered, a cold shadow in the corner.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to relax. Tensing up won't coax the music out. I tried a different approach, strumming random chords, letting go of the need for perfection. Maybe a spark will ignite, a melody hidden within a discordant note.
Distraction beckoned. I picked up my phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media. The world seemed to be full of artists churning out content, their creativity, a gushing fountain. The comparison game was a dangerous one, I knew, but it stung nonetheless.
I again put it away, trying to snatch a melody hidden somewhere in my stray thoughts. But my efforts were immediately rammed to rust, as I heard the creak of the door.
" Taehyung, I've been watching you for a while now standing behind the door, but I can't help it anymore. You're forcing yourself now. Let loose, only then the inspiration you're looking for will perspire." Seojoon Hyung cooed from behind, his hands massaging my shoulder blades soothingly.
"You here, hyung?" I craned my head towards him, grinning dimly. " Came to check on you. No progress, I see." He clicked his tongue, crashing on the couch.
"Maybe someone else is also here, you gotta greet." I heard a heavy voice, swiftly turning my head.
" Wooshik hyung! When did you return?" I squealed happily, grappling my way to him, and hugging tightly.
"Yeah, I just came back last night. The shoot was pretty hectic, it felt like bed got stuck to my back." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Anyways, aren't you eating well these days? You've become skinnier." He ruffles my hair, careful not to hurt me.
" C'mon, my bread cheeks are still there. They're all I need." I said squishing my chubby cheeks.
" Shut up, kid. I'm going to cook some chicken chilly and noodles for you. You look like you've gotten used to only cereals and nothing else." Seojoon remarked, hitting me on my head from behind, causing me to hiss.
