Library

When the crayon scraps in the cracks of the bluestone meet the southern rain, the clipped wings grow again on the canvas. This is a story about breaking out of a cocoon - the broken hair under the mother's scissors was once a black butterfly, the paint when the father fell became a star, and the blue silk thread hidden in the red date bag by the shoemaker Uncle Wang eventually became the wings that can travel through the storm. The fragments of admission notices that have been crushed by the years spell out the outlines of migratory birds in the moonlight; every trace of water in the leaky attic is a gap left by fate for freedom. Lin Xia's brush strokes across the roar of the textile factory, the late night of the convenience store, and the warm light of the studio, making all the broken desires grow into wings that fly south through the bite of paint and canvas. This is a book colored by pain, but the last page is full of sunshine - just like the migratory birds that will eventually cross the clouds torn by the storm, we will eventually see thousands of stars shining quietly for freedom in the broken places.