🎨 Hello, dear artists!
She once kept flowers on the windowsill—fresh ones, always changing. They were small acts of hope, quiet proof that something could bloom, even in stillness. Now the vase sits empty, dusty, forgotten. Life pulled her away, piece by piece, and she forgot how to make things beautiful just for herself. But still, sometimes, she dreams in petals—soft, fleeting things—reminding her that even what’s wilted once knew how to reach for the light.
Ready? It’s a moment just for you. Enjoy it! 🖼️🖌️
