
Twin sisters who forgot each other’s names walk shoulder to shoulder in the opposite way

I seek what devours, and find roots within me. I quest what nourishes, and find the spring within me.

Why do the truths we carry in our bodies translate readily into understanding, but the truths we learn in our minds rarely find their way into our bones?

When I got what I wanted, I discovered how little I need.

On the need to be fully seen, selflesness, and a silence that only certain kind of love can touch

What comforts, what devours.

When time seems to be slipping out of our hands, and it feels like we can never do enough, how do we soothe this need for relevance and eternity we so desperately search for?

When confusion takes hold and you’re left standing in the unknown, what if it’s not the end of knowing, but the beginning of remembering?

Every artist hides at first, convinced the world waits to criticize. But the crowd isn’t what it seems, and the spotlight doesn’t shine where we expect. What if the arena is a solitary place? What if the performance was always meant for someone else?