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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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♥️













