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Emma’s first attempt was a disaster. A "sunset" that looked like a bruised potato. "Clouds" that resembled dirty cotton balls. She almost quit. But Leo had warned her: "The ugly phase is not failure. It’s the compost where good art grows." The change wasn't just on the canvas
Her coworkers gathered. "You made these?" asked Mark from finance, the one who always wore gray suits. He stared at the stormy sea for a long time. "I… feel that," he said quietly.
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