The Art of Becoming

A story of resilience, hope, and the courage to keep creating. Inspired by life’s seasons, this metaphorical tale reflects the beauty of planting seeds of kindness, trusting that they will bloom in their own time.

There was once a woman who carried a small pouch of seeds wherever she went. People laughed because they never saw her harvest anything. They only saw her kneeling on empty ground, planting another seed

Storms came. Some washed the seeds away. Winters buried them beneath frozen soil. Even those she loved sometimes walked past the fields without noticing her work. Still, she planted

Years passed

The woman no longer counted the seeds she had lost. Instead, she learned to love the act of planting itself

One spring morning, tiny flowers began to appear, not in one place, but in many. Some bloomed beside distant roads she had almost forgotten. Others blossomed in the hearts of strangers who never knew her name

Then she realized something. She had never been growing flowers. She had been growing herself

Like a river carving through stone, she had become stronger without making a sound. And one day, people looked at the garden and called it an overnight success

Only the woman knew that every flower had once been a lonely seed planted through tears

She smiled. Life had become easy. She had become the garden she had been searching for

#roksanatales

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I left these little paintings, each with a few words of wisdom, on the plane, two for my fellow passengers and one for the pilot. If the pilot eventually receives it, it would make me very happy. This was on an Emirates flight as I was returning home from London.
I left these handmade watercolor bookmarks in the lounge of the student studio where we stayed in London, with a little note inviting anyone to take one if they wished.

This story is a metaphor for my own journey.

Through Jian Bird Creates, I have chosen to keep creating, no matter where life takes me. I carry my sketchbook when I travel, paint in cafés, parks, museums, airports, trains, and corners of unfamiliar cities, and sometimes leave my little paintings behind for strangers to find

I never know who will notice them, cherish them, or simply walk past them, and that’s perfectly alright

For me, the joy has never been in being seen. It has always been in creating, sharing kindness, and trusting that every small act of beauty finds its way to someone who needs it

So, wherever I go, I simply keep planting seeds

I♥️

Presence

Wouldn’t it be nice…
To arrive with something
Made by hand
A page where colors once
Listened to your breath …
A small painting carrying a piece of your day
Not bought, but felt, and gently given …

Wouldn’t it be nice…
To gift a folded note, written slowly
With words that sat beside
Your heart for a while
Ink becoming warmth in
Someone else’s hands
A letter that lingers longer
Than any object …

Wouldn’t it be nice…
To bring a pressed flower
From a walk you loved
Held between pages like a
Secret of the earth
A moment of stillness
Wrapped in paper
A memory, passed from you to them …

Wouldn’t it be nice…
To offer a jar filled with tiny intentions
Little lines of hope, of courage, of light
So on heavy days, they can open one
And find you there, in a sentence …

Wouldn’t it be nice…
If our gifts carried pieces of our presence
Instead of things that fade
Without a story ..
A drawing, a word, a fragment of soul
Simple, and somehow, enough …

#roksanatales

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Wouldn’t it be nice?
Tell me!