Lukisan Langit Novels & Stories

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.

LUCIAN Back at the pack, I spend most of the night sketching and erasing the same map on my desk. The ink’s already smudged, my fingers stained black. Every line and route leading to Orion ends the same way, too dangerous, exposed, and too risky.

“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.

“You just made me redo my sky.” “You’re welcome,” she chirped. After an hour, Lily sat back, her hands covered in paint. “It’s done!” The painting was bright and full of color—yellow flowers, a soft blue sky, and a big bunny cloud floating above. “Grandma’s going to love this,” I said, smiling at them. “Can we sign our names?” Lily asked. “Of course,” I said, handing her a marker. She wrote her name in big, uneven letters. Jordan added his in smaller writing.

"Describe something." I gently take my place beside him. "What do you mean?" "You always make the simplest things so intricate." I rest my head against my pillow and glance over to him. "Okay, well, the night. The sky floats above like a inky mixture of endless possibilities. Millions upon millions of stars—like a artist took white paint and splattered them relentlessly at a black canvas. Each one could hold different words, and they all drift above in an array of lights, shining and dancing, triggering emotions. The moon, silver and sliced, casts its unearthly glow down on us like a spotlight on a stage. You feel as if your life is the main act, but it is not, it is part of exhibition, and

she asked in a voice tinged with awe. Lennon followed her inside. “Yes, I rarely have time to travel. This is how I relax.” Kiara turned to look at Lennon. Her gaze softened. “I didn't expect this.” They walked slowly through the room. They took their time with each painting, as if absorbing every brushstroke. Lennon stopped and pointed to one of the paintings. “This is a work by Elric Vann,” he said, indicating a mountain landscape rendered in cool tones. “He painted nature not as something beautiful, but as something that endures.”

It is enough to see the owner's heart wants to put in this place. I looked up at the vast night sky. Up there are small twinkling stars. It was as if it was the background for the big and bright moonlight. But anyway, they all create a picture of the sky very splendid. it reminds me of Van Gogh's "Starry Night".

A faint wind entered the room through the archway. It had the sound of someone inhaling and exhaling very gently. Still watching the picture on the wall, Lucian sat at the fire. The soft glow caused the shadows to slowly gild the ancient walls. Morning came without a sound. Though the stars had disappeared, the sky was still bright and clear up there. A pale blue sky with fluffy clouds laying lightly in the air. Awakening first, Serakha made her way out of the ark. She stood close to the entrance, peaking outside to see what was below. Looking back, Estel Crossing was a very small spot on the map. The road seemed to drape itself along the golden and green landscape.

The tear I ripped into the sky the day before had closed quickly, but it left behind shimmering frost trails that drifted across the clouds like someone had painted the heavens with glowing silver streaks. They stayed. They followed the packhouse like lazy celestial crumbs. Lucian pointed up at them while clutching his blanket. “The sky is stalking us. This is not normal.” Elara admired the glittering streaks. “I think it is beautiful.” “It is threatening,” Lucian replied.

Aria’s POV The brushes moved gracefully between my fingers as I studied the final touches on the canvas before me. The painting had evolved into something I hadn’t initially envisioned—a lighthouse standing tall and steadfast, surrounded by a mesmerizing swirl of colors that seemed to represent the changing seasons. Spring’s vibrant greens melted into summer’s golden warmth, which blended into autumn’s fiery hues before softening into winter’s cool blues and whites. The scene was stylized and whimsical, the waves and skies swirling together like a dreamscape.