There’s always one painting.
The one people keep coming back to…
They don’t always know why.
They just stop.
And stare.
Sometimes they smile.
Sometimes… they get quiet.
They say—
‘There’s something about this one!’
Maybe it’s the warmth.
Maybe it’s the way the sky peeks through like a memory.
Or maybe…
it reminds them of something they’ve carried deep inside
but never had words for.
I never rush to explain it.
Because I know—the ones who are meant to feel it, will.
And when they do… they just know.