Happiness may not live in one place or one moment. Perhaps it is found in the spaces between letting go of the past, embracing the present, and trusting what tomorrow may bring.
Happiness lives in three places In letting go of what was In releasing yesterday’s shadows And making peace with every loss …
Happiness lives in three places In enjoying what is In noticing the colours around me The streets, the sky, the little joys I might have missed …
Happiness lives in three places In trusting what will be In believing that every uncertain road May still lead me somewhere I am meant to see …
Happiness lives in three places In letting go, living now, and trusting tomorrow … And somewhere between the three I found a little more peace within myself …
#roksanatales
Sukha: a Sanskrit word for happiness, ease, inner peace, and a sense of well-being
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Now, tell me, How’re you? How do you find your peace?
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
Did a beautiful flower watercolor workshop guided by Ana at Imperfect Art in London, and it truly felt like such a calming and wholesome experience. From choosing our own flowers to observing every tiny detail before painting them, the entire process felt slow, mindful, and deeply creative …
We explored monochromatic tones, layering light to dark values, and learned how small details can completely transform a painting and bring it to life. Ana also shared beautiful insights about the color wheel and color interactions, making the workshop feel both educational and inspiring …
The studio itself had such warm and creative energy, cozy corners, colors everywhere, people creating, laughing, learning, and simply enjoying the process together …
What I also know is how important it is to attend workshops even as a facilitator yourself. There is always something new to learn, not only from the artist guiding the session, but also from observing different perspectives, techniques, conversations, and creative approaches from others in the room. Every workshop becomes a space to gather fresh ideas, inspiration, knowledge, and a renewed connection with creativity itself …
I feel that it is the most beautiful way to grow as an artist and facilitator …
#roksanatales
Now tell me When was the last time you slowed down and created something just for joy?
As a teenager, she would watch her sisters tilt their faces toward the light, their lashes casting long shadows over eyes that shimmered with beauty. When she looked in the mirror, her own eyes seemed smaller, plainer, framed by short lashes. It stung her heart a little, like a tiny splinter she couldn’t quite pull out …
Over time, she began to reclaim them. She traced deep kajol along her lids, soft & dark, like ink drawing a doorway. Her eyes lookd wider, more alive. People began to say she looked striking, and for the first time, her eyes felt truly hers …
Then life changed. Grief came quietly, like water filling a low space. In her reflection, she noticed it, the sparkle that once danced in her eyes had turned gentler, dimmer, like smoke fading after a flame. Her eyes began to carry stories of long nights and silent endurance. She didn’t always want others to read them …
So she reached for her sunglasses. The cool plastic rested against her temples, the tinted lenses washed the world in sepia. It felt like drawing a curtain over a window. Behind them, she had privacy. No one could see the sadness flicker and ask, “Are you okay?” …
She’s learned something through this little ritual, and that is, sometimes covering up isn’t vanity; it’s survival. The layers we wear, sunglasses, kajol, even a careful smile, are small stitches tht hold us togther until we’re ready to heal …
Sometimes, she still wonders: what would it feel like to step into the light barefaced, to let her eyes tell their truth, and to trust the world not to look away?
#roksanatales
Her eyes carry stories the world is not yet ready to read
Roksana Tales 