I’m currently trying to make art more frequently without putting too much pressure on myself. Aka I’m trying to find joy in creating instead of being upset my work isn’t perfect/better.
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Luo Binghe and the critters he shared the shed with as a young disciple
TW: spiders
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There was a family of spiders living in the corner of the shed. One day, they crawled in from the outside, trying to shield themselves from the rain and cold, and built a silky, translucent home in the furthest corner of the small building.
And so, they had occupied a corner of the ceiling, their small, rice-sized bodies moving onto thin, long, articulate legs. Their weaving cobwebs had formed the shape of a baby's cradle, and dust has covered the thin strands into a soft, white powder - and so, they had found home.
Baby spiders appeared soon after that. With even tinier bodies than their parents, still discolored and fragile, lanky little feet scaled the walls slowly and fearfully, miniscule eyes watching their parents move and hunt and walk the hair-thin network of cobwebs they created.
They didn't do much during the day and it was hard to tell if they did anything at night. They made no sound scaling their cobwebs and whatever got caught in their net struggled and buzzed for minutes at most before dying or being eaten alive.
It was not much fun to watch them during the day. But there was little else to do in the cold, lonely shed and there were no other interesting creatures that stayed there.
Sometimes Luo Binghe wondered if the original parent spiders died and those that he was watching now, day in and day out, nursing wounds and resentment, were their children, or grandchildren or maybe other spiders entirely. Perhaps they weren't even related at all and stumbled upon the nest in the shed, killed its inhabitants and took over in a silent, merciless war with no survivors from the natives.
Perhaps they allowed some spiders from the outside in, taking pity on them. Taking them in, feeding them and keeping them warm, even if they were not related. Perhaps they were kind.
Something had to still be kind out there, the world couldn't be all cruel...
Binghe would just have to wait to find it. Or, rather, for it to find him.
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