From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Nora didn't notice Anson's brief daze; her attention was completely focused on the unfinished painting —

It was a watercolor.

Anson hadn't chosen a fine-liner pen, but a background brush.

Generally, background brushes are used to tint the background of a painting, and they are relatively large, so the lines they create are naturally thicker, used for applying broad strokes; but Anson was skillfully using the background brush to create the framework.

Light and elegant watercolors were used to create the rough lines of the architectural framework, and layers of color were superimposed in a staggered and orderly manner to form rich layers, with a free and easy style between horizontal and vertical strokes. It seemed chaotic and hazy, but in fact, the layers were distinct, and the three-dimensional sense of space jumped onto the paper.

Not because of the mystery and freshness revealed in the painting, like a rabbit hole leading to Alice's Wonderland — of course, that was also very important. Nora's artistic radar went off again, and her eyes couldn't help but reveal a hint of appreciation, but she quickly cut off her work mode and returned to her role as a mother.

But because in this painting, she could see sorrow and loneliness, bitterness and scars, but they were slowly healing. Although it was only a small step, he had finally opened his heart, accepting the sprinkling of sunlight, and the chaotic negative emotions had subsided, as if he had found a long-lost peace.

This was a good thing.

This meant that the time spent in Los Angeles challenging himself as an actor had brought positive effects, and perhaps they should encourage Anson to continue challenging himself.

Nora watched very carefully, with thousands of thoughts in her mind, almost losing her composure, but she couldn't let Anson see it. She lowered her eyes to hide her emotions, and when she stood up straight again, she had returned to calm, and took a sip of red wine.

"Summer by the sea."

"Sunlight, beaches, the sea, a slight warmth, but not enough to be annoying, a gentle breeze bringing a little coolness. No need to do anything special, just lying on a beach chair, with a glass of lemonade and a watermelon, using a Tolstoy book to block the sun, drifting off into a drowsy sleep."

"An afternoon, just passing by idly like that."

Anson was very surprised.

Nora hadn't noticed that a different soul had taken over the same body, but she could accurately see the subtle atmosphere in the painting.

His tense nerves relaxed slightly, and his tone became lighter, "Lemonade?"

Are you sure it's not alcohol?

Nora raised her red wine glass and took another sip, giving Anson a look, "How about we compromise with a Long Island Iced Tea?"

"Haha." Anson couldn't help but smile.

Nora looked at Anson, carefully sizing him up. She always felt that Anson had changed somehow, but she couldn't accurately describe the change in words.

However, this change should be a good thing —

In just a few months, Anson's eyes had become clear, no longer chaotic, no longer confused, no longer collapsing. Even his whole person's temperament had become clear and open again.

His slightly curly golden-brown hair was slightly messy and lazy, and a loose, casual dark blue shirt hung loosely, exuding a kind of uninhibited and casual air, but not depressed and decadent, naturally tinged with a shallow shimmer, like the blue hour before the sunrise.

Similar, but different.

Involuntarily, Nora thought of those words Darren had said. It seemed that Anson should like the job of an actor.

Taking another sip of alcohol to hide her thoughts, Nora changed the subject, "So, how long are you planning to stay this time?"

Anson shrugged, "Not sure. I'm still waiting for news about the audition. If there's still no follow-up tomorrow or the day after, I might go back to Los Angeles to wait."

Nora nodded lightly, "If the audition passes, is this job in New York?"

Anson spread his hands, "Not sure. You should know that those Hollywood movies are all filmed on sets built in studios. What can't be built is done with computer effects. There are several New Yorks in Burbank."

Nora's face was calm, "No, I don't know."

Looking at Nora's righteous expression, Anson choked, raised his hands to surrender, "Sorry, I forgot, I shouldn't be discussing vulgar art in front of high art. Wait, is film considered art?"

Obviously, this was irony.

Nora pretended to raise her chin, holding her wine glass and gently swirling it, thinking seriously for a moment, "Well, barely."

A smile climbed onto Anson's lips, "Thank you!"

Nora also smiled, her voice rolling in her throat, "I just wanted to say that if you come back to work in New York, the apartment in Bryant Park has been renovated. Anyway, Lucas is always in San Francisco, you can live there, and it's convenient to go to and from work."

Anson showed a surprised expression, "So, am I officially independent?"

Nora jokingly pretended to be serious, "You'll be officially eighteen in two months. Your father and I have been waiting for this day, just waiting to kick you out, and then we can declare our liberation and finally enjoy our two-person world. God, please let this day come soon."

A joke, without a doubt, this was definitely a joke —

Anson was a little surprised.

Obviously, his relationship with his parents was not like this in his previous life; but from another perspective, perhaps this kind of parent-child relationship that was both teacher and friend was more suitable for Anson.

It's not easy to slip up.

Originally, he thought that as an outsider, he should naturally stay away from his family, the further the better; but now it seems that changing his mind seems good too.

Anson didn't panic, but calmed down, and said with a serious face, "But you know, I still have to cash the monthly living expenses check, right?"

Nora glanced at Anson with a deliberately profound look, "I'll consider it."

However, the slightly raised corners of her mouth still betrayed Nora's mood at the moment —

Anson was about to speak again when he noticed a faint smell of burning in the air, "Wait, what's that smell? Are you cooking something?"

Nora's face changed, and she couldn't find the calmness just now, "Oh no, my chicken and mushroom stew!"

Handily, Nora stuffed the red wine glass into Anson's hand, turned around and rushed out.

Her footsteps stopped at the door, and with a turn, she dropped a sentence, her face full of sincerity, "You really have a talent for painting. Occasionally, you should pick up a paintbrush, it suits you."

After speaking, without waiting for Anson to respond, she had already rushed out quickly, leaving a burst of rushing footsteps in the air.

Anson stood in place, stunned slightly, and then a smile gently climbed onto the corners of his mouth.

Fourth update.