She makes for the sky.
She catches the bird.
Then she flies.
A long time ago in a faraway land called Japan, there was a boy. His name was Uta and he wished most of all to be an artist. His father said no. HIs mother said no. His grandmama said no. His grandpapa said no. His uncle Jeff said no. His aunt Missy said no. You will be a farmer as we are, they all told him. But farming was not for him.
He was no good at it. The plants he planted died. The milk from the cows he milked turned sour. The horse he used to plow broke a leg. The barn he threw the hay into caught fire and burned to the ground. Still his family said he would be a farmer.
One night his grandmama Nana dreamed. A god, one of the Sacred Seven, appeared and spoke to her. “Uta is to be an artist. Do not resist his desire for such a thing. If you do, the gods will weep.”
So the boy became an artist. And not just an artist, but a famous artist. Thus it is told.