Meiyi Chen

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At the center of the park, right inside the fountain and within the emerging mist, slim silhouettes arose from the deep. Those ominous figures struggled toward the ground as they squirmed and murmured as if they were an army of ghouls. Their viscous limbs stretched, cracking a few of their joints in a subhuman way on their path of intrusion……Somewhere in the unnoticed corner between the shrubs, secretly sat in silence was the family of artists; with the fountain being the hub, they stood in every direction and had enclosed these spirits. Every inch of their skin was covered in silver paint, highlights shivered a top every curve and wrinkle in accordance with their bodyline and exchanges of air, the same way as how the ghosts’ half transparent proved their being soaking wet in the pool of moonlight… The artists exhaled in delight. “The Collection starts now”. An unknown urge pushes every family member’s finger to function, sprouts of enchantment bloom viciously onto the undercoat of the paintings. With each consistent line created, the family sowed new patterns onto the uncultivated land of emptiness. Drop by drop, harvest blessings cast upon “fertilizers” in muted colors created one outpouring gush from the artists’ palms, slowly running towards their fingertips, and eventually diffusing with the larger drawing scene. The paint splashed, the pigment spilled, the color poured onto the moonlit canvases, these ghosts’ blurry images had formed, and were growing clearer, stronger with every stroke… Their behavior, posture, appearance, everything was captured so accurately almost as if they were moving and could have broken through the barrier and come out from the canvas in that moment.