Spinning the Sky (Moonlit Bedhead) [Weekly Short-Short Note]

I can't paint anything, the painter thought, gazing blankly at the sky. He had become a painter because he wanted to paint beautiful skies, but no matter what he painted, it always turned into a gray-tinged, overcast sky, so his paintings never sold at all.

He had a beautiful cowlick. Even when people told him it swirled beautifully, he couldn't see it himself, so it didn't mean much to him. He tried taking a photo of it, but he was disappointed, thinking it was just the center of his head.

The painter had been staring at the sky for a long time when he suddenly had an idea and reached out toward it. When he pinched the sky, it lifted up thinly, so he twisted it to the right. Looking at the sky, which now had a few wrinkles, the painter felt happy, wondering if his own head had a swirl just like that. The painter laughed, thinking that perhaps the sky's bedhead also swirled clockwise.

The painter twisted the sky one part after another. He made them bigger, smaller, and pinched everything—the moon, the stars, everything—and twisted them all to the right.

A young man who saw the same sky would later go on to paint 'The Starry Night'.

<Impressions>
I feel lonely because the season when the stars are beautiful is coming to an end.

I participated in the following project.