A girl named Lin Wan drew a boat when she was eighteen years old.
The bow of the ship is facing right, with the sea in front and light in the distance.
She didn't drive out.
When her father fell ill, she tore up the art exam registration form and stayed in the small town.
At the age of twenty-four, someone invited her to go with them. The night before departure, my father fell again.
She stuffed the ticket into the trash can and returned it to where it was.
At the age of thirty, my father passed away.
She opened his closet and found an iron box - inside was every drawing she had made from kindergarten to high school.
There was a piece of paper pressed at the bottom of the iron box, and my father wrote crookedly: Dad is sorry for you. Dad didn't help you push your boat into the water.
She finally went to Shanghai.
There is no fame, no counterattack, no chance encounter from heaven.
She just opened the window on an ordinary morning and painted a sunrise.
This is the story of a ship that took twelve years to sail out of the harbor.
It is also the story of a girl who took twelve years to finally put herself into her own sea.
