Fiction

Episode 1 — I Wasn’t Meant to Be an Artist But I Became One Anyway
I was born in 1986, in a city called Gwangju, South Korea. I don't know about other families in Gwangju, but mine had absolutely nothing to do with art.
By Oh Kyeong Hoon 5 months ago in Art
Echoes in Color
In Lahore, where the call to prayer weaves through the morning air and rickshaws weave through traffic like stubborn thoughts, lived a boy named Rehan. He was seventeen, soft-spoken, and carried the quiet intensity of someone who sees more than they say. His hands were always stained—blues under the nails, ochre on his wrists, charcoal smudged at the edge of his palm. Paint wasn’t just something he used; it was something he lived with, like breath.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Art
Colors of Her Silence
Meher was never loud. Not in voice, not in presence. As a child, while others ran and laughed, she sat with a pencil and paper, tracing the world around her—the curve of a leaf, the shadow on a wall, the way light fell through the window at different times of day. Words never came easily, but lines did. Colors, too.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Art
AI killed my coding brain but I’m rebuilding it.
In recent years, artificial intelligence has revolutionized the way we work, learn, and solve problems. In the realm of programming, AI-powered tools like code autocompleters, intelligent debuggers, and even full code generators have made writing software faster and easier than ever. While these tools can be incredibly helpful, there’s a growing number of developers—including myself—who feel that leaning too heavily on AI has dulled their own coding instincts and problem-solving skills. In other words, AI killed my coding brain. But I’m not giving up; I’m rebuilding it.
By Hanifullah5 months ago in Art
The Accidental Artist
Vikram Sharma had never considered himself creative. Not really. Sure, he once tried making samosas from scratch and nearly set off the smoke alarm, but that was more chaos than artistry. At forty, he worked at a bank, wore the same shade of blue shirt every Monday, and found excitement in perfectly aligned sticky notes.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Art
The Power and Significance of Art in Human Culture
Art has always been a quiet yet powerful companion to humanity. Long before written language, our ancestors left marks on cave walls—handprints, animals, symbols—sharing glimpses of their lives, fears, and dreams. These early expressions weren’t just decoration; they were meaning made visible. That same impulse lives on today, whether in a child’s scribbled drawing, a street musician’s melody, or a carefully crafted novel.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Art
Emma Stone reportedly sold her TX mansion for $23.5M
Four years after purchasing her home in Central Texas, an A-list Hollywood actress is officially saying goodbye to the Lone Star State. Emma Stone has reportedly found a buyer for her $23.5 million Austin mansion, according to Realtor.com, marking the end of her brief chapter as a Texas resident.
By Dena Falken Esq5 months ago in Art
Judas' Gospel presented in a world premiere at the Locarno Film Festival. Producer Tiziana Rocca: “The figure of Judas now has a human portrait, disturbing and poetic.”
The movie Judas' Gospel was screened today out of competition at the Locarno Film Festival. "It is an honor for me to be at the Locarno Film Festival - says Tiziana Rocca, producer with Agnus Dei production - Judas is portrayed in a new light, one that has never been seen in cinema before. He is no longer just a traitor; he is a person like us, with his own vulnerabilities and uncertainties”. The movie offers a new perspective thanks to its talented cast, which includes Giancarlo Giannini, Rupert Everett, Paz Vega, Abel Ferrara, Vincenzo Galluzzo, Ada Roncone, Darko Peric, and John Savage.".
By Elena5 months ago in Art
How We Read Ourselves
📖 How We Read Ourselves By Haroon In the quiet corner of the café, Marla sat hunched over her notebook, sipping lukewarm espresso and tracing her pen along the creases of the page. The words were hers—at least she believed they were. Her handwriting, curled and deliberate, danced across the paper in a way that felt too poetic to belong to her in real life.
By Muhammad Haroon5 months ago in Art
The Painter of Forgotten Faces
In a narrow alley where the cobblestones were worn smooth by time and silence, there lived a woman named Imaan. Her home was a crumbling stone building with ivy curling around its windows like old thoughts clinging to the mind. She kept to herself, speaking only when spoken to, and even then, her words were few and soft, like the brush of a feather on paper.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Art
Where the Moon Hides. AI-Generated.
In the tucked-away village of Eldermoor cradled between whispering forests and the jagged edges of the sea-cliffs the moon was more than just a pale ornament in the sky. To the people there, it was a guardian. Every night it spilled silver light over the crooked rooftops and cobblestone streets, lighting the path for lovers’ quiet walks and shepherding children’s dreams.
By Muzamil khan5 months ago in Art
The Brush Between Worlds
Tucked between a subway entrance and a glass-fronted café in the heart of the city stood a small, unassuming studio with peeling blue paint and a hand-lettered sign: Zehra’s Corner – Paint. Breathe. Be.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Art