When the blind paint and the muted piano keys collided in the tide, the two burned souls found a new spectrum.
Han Qingyu, who was deprived of her light by turpentine, sealed her eyes with white silk, but raised the violent sea on the linen canvas - those surge frequencies recorded in Braille hide a silent narrative about the world.
Until one evening when the tide was high, this woman would always pour tequila liquid into her paint box and measure the tidal range of her pulse with an out-of-tune Chopin etude.
"You smell like a smashed moonlight sonata." Han Qingyu's blind stick touched her wrist bone, which had not healed from an old injury. "The trembling of the B-flat key in the third measure was the same as yesterday."
Yan Mochu looked at the outline of the killer whale whose paint spread out in the waves, and finally understood that the blind girl rushing into the storm risking her life was the missing final chapter of "Blue-winged Butterfly Variations" that she had interrupted for seven years.
When the siren of the silenced villa is taken over by the frequency of the waves, and when the antique tuning fork becomes a new ruler for measuring heartbeats, they redefine the hue in the sound of the tide in Moon View Bay——
Touch is visible frequency, scar is tangible music score,
And love is the fourth primary color pickled by sea salt.
Intention: try