Gemotions

He stared at the painting, a canvas he had been working on for weeks. He'd changed the brush strokes, the colours and the textures many times but the painting felt unfinished and soulless. The stillness of the artist's studio felt palpable, a weight pressing down on his shoulders. A knock. A bouquet of wild, unkempt wildflowers, tied with a simple twine, was thrust into his hands. No clue as to the sender. He sat the flowers on his easel, their untamed beauty a stark contrast to his own artistic paralysis. He went back to the painting, the flowers becoming another layer to ignore.