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ArtistWrite the sky. Then erase it. It was too blue, too obvious. Place a chair. No—just the shadow of one. Too many chairs have been sat in without purpose. Add water, but only the ripples. Stillness pretends to be wise— movement admits it’s lost. Now a voice: your own, but unread. A whisper that doubts even its punctuation. What’s left? Nothing that rhymes. Nothing that wants to be understood. But it waits. Like breath before a name is spoken. Like silence before you say yes.
A vibrant blue chair stands alone on a sandy edge by a shimmering water surface. The sunlight reflects off the water, creating wavy patterns, while the surroundings appear peaceful and serene.