#sterility

Story plot is basically a young girl who worked in family resort keep pestering her mother for rhinoplasty because she actually has beautiful face except for wide nose thing. Her mother say no.

Until one day, she gets attacked by monkey (because the family resort is near forest/jungle) and finally get that rhinoplasty.

She been described as beautiful multiple times in novel then later on, she take degree for hospitality and become a intern for big name resort.

She meet her future husband there and clicking very easily, until one day, she gave birth to baby girl with wide nose and he fucking dipped because no way baby with wide nose is his and think his loyal beautiful wife cheated on him.

As you can see, i very pissed by this man.

But don't worry, about several years later, this man got into accident and get render into infertile.

About ten/twelve years later, they meet later, the single mother who busy running her own family resort, understandably, refused to get together with man who left her because baby's wide nose.

But her daughter managed to convinced her mother to give him another chance. The end.

Yeah, the ending also lowkey made me mad because if i am daughter, i also refused to see that asshole.

I refused to get on with a man that failed biology.

...but that's a good quality, in a human being.

From Cabo Verde is an early work by Tanzanian artist Sungi Mlengeya, a self-taught painter known for her striking use of acrylic on canvas to depict Black women within expanses of negative space.

In this piece, light itself becomes part of the narrative. The subject is seen only in profile, turned away, her gaze fixed on a background that seems to radiate symbolism of purity, innocence, cleanliness, and new beginnings. At first glance, it conveys serenity and simplicity, even a sense of perfection. Yet the same elements also suggest sterility and isolation, before settling into my vision with a final note of tranquility.

Mlengeya’s restraint is what fascinates me. She doesn’t rely on sprawling palettes or elaborate patterns. Instead, she crafts tension through what she withholds. The minimalist approach leaves space for the viewer to interpret, to contrast, to imagine.

Minimalism, I admit, has always been a challenge for me. I gravitate toward maximalist environments filled with color, pattern, and density. But works like this reveal the quiet power of restraint. By creating absence, Mlengeya opens presence. Her canvas breathes.