Lukisan Langit Novels & Stories

He studied the simple landscape I'd started—moonlit mountains under a night sky—and nodded with satisfaction. "Good. Keep it simple. Nothing provocative," he instructed before leaving again. I continued working on the "approved" painting, making it exactly what Lucas wanted—a childish scene with blue sky, mountain peaks, and fluffy clouds. Nothing that would draw attention away from Claire Redwood's work. When night fell and the house grew quiet, I took out another piece of paper and began mixing my inks. My eyes gleamed with renewed passion as I worked, losing myself in creation after so long.

But this ain't just any ol' sky—this is like the most epic, jaw-dropping, out-of-this-world sky you've ever seen. The colors? Bruh, they're straight-up celestial—indigo, violet, and turquoise swirlin' and dancin' across the canvas like they're throwing' a rave up in space. And the stars? They're twinklin' like they have a secret to tell; each constellation has' its own story against the backdrop of the cosmos.

He was especially feeling today, but…. There’s only one moon on the ceiling. A frown etches itself across my face because why is that? I drew those moons myself. The whole landscape. I wanted it to be that whenever we looked at the ceiling, we would see us. I drew me and him sitting in the background, just two small dots, and I drew the sea spread out before us. The waves as they crashed on the beach, the heavy clouds on the horizon. The deer just a few paces away, feasting on the grass, and to complete it, the two moons in the distance.

Lance The night was almost as typical as every other night; there’s always the strong presence of the sharp nose-pinching cold breeze. The pitch-black canvas above the sky was dotted with a myriad of stars blinking incessantly. It was such a beautiful natural view that I have learned to appreciate its mesmerizing beauty every single night. Maybe for normal people it was just a distinctive night sky filled with a myriad of stars blinking endlessly, but for me, it's like a painting painted by the greatest painter of all time, God.

I turned to face her and followed my gaze to where she had it: the ceiling. It was a mixture of the day and night sky, the sun, the moon and the stars were mixed with the gray and white clouds, it was something beautiful, the most beautiful painting I had ever seen. “She was a great artist. I didn't reply, but he was absolutely right. I found a small folder compared to the paintings, where there were drawings with charcoal and others with pencil. One better than another. It seems that he really likes to draw landscapes, animals, castles, angels and abstract things, and the occasional demon. The latter were impressive, truly terrifying if they existed.

Music quietly plays in the background as a lady sings about heartbreak. We're seated next to a glass window looking over the city. I happen to look up and admire the black night skies shimmering with stars. They look like little crystals scattered through a black ocean. It holds me hostage for all its beauty on display. I can’t make sense of how the simplicity of the two can be so mesmerising. “It's enchanting, isn't it?” Luca says, breaking my train of thought. “Yes, it truly is.” I smile. He looks out the window, gazing towards the sky.

It showed a bridge. A real architectural bridge with towers and suspension cables drawn with the particular precision of a nine-year-old who had spent considerable time looking at how bridges actually worked before attempting to draw one. Below the bridge there was blue water and on the water there were small boats. Above the bridge there was a sky with clouds that were fluffy in the way children draw clouds when they are happy rather than when they are being accurate. In the bottom corner, in his careful looping handwriting: For the baby. From Luke. Build things.

I saw Luke shut her eyes tight and nodded. When Luke left and close the door my eyes travel to an empty canvas, and all the painting we bought. I gulp and stood up, I lock the door and immediately started painting… Yellow and orange… they both come hand in hand when painting something calm but for me the color also symbolizes sadness. I remember the time when I paint Luke using this colors but today I paint the sky… it might look weird but I added a star in it. A lonely star all alone in the sky of sadness, it took me an hour to finish a small canvas but even though I paint it with sadness but I find calm while looking at it… and a smile left my mouth.

Langit sat on a bench in the apartment garden. Luckily, it was spring in Paris, so the air was not as cold as it was in winter. He let out a long breath over and over, trying to control the emotions that had piled up but could not be released. Langit lifted his head, looking at the star-filled sky. In the past, he was always afraid to look up at the night sky, afraid the stars would remind him of the girl he loved. “When I can finally reach you, why is there still so much fear piling up in my heart?”

“I’m supposed to make an imaginary ecosystem. So, I chose a moon forest.” “Of course, you did,” Tyler grumbles. “That sounds amazing,” I say instead, leaning over the blank page. “I know,” Sophie exclaims, beaming. I pick up one of the pencils Lucas carefully arranged and, without thinking, I start to sketch. Gently, I trace out long, curved tree trunks with roots spiraling upward instead of down, and leaves shaped like crescent moons. Then, I draw a glowing river a few inches away from it, with floating spores drifting over it like stars.