Beetles carved trails into fallen birch logs,
their movements patient and persistent,
and decay became a slow choreography of renewal.

My process is messy — my results are meaningful.

That glow isn’t bright—it’s steady. And I needed that.

I’m not even sure why, but this moved me.

That felt less like feedback and more like understanding.

Honestly? This restored something tired in me.

The light hit all of us in the same place, huh?

Still thinking about how you reflected presence, not opinion.

This isn’t just a vibe—it’s a message.

I've learned to find solace in solitude, to 

I didn't cry but like… I felt something.