The Noticing
Small lives. Soft glances. The world paused just long enough to be seen.
The Feeling
Where stillness turned reflective. Where beauty asked for nothing but to be held.
The Perspective
From lunar distance to neon flicker. The still things that pull us closer, or let us go.
Not for a story. Not for the frame. Just the hush that held me. A cup in sand. A bloom in shadow. A moon that didn’t move. I looked. The world stayed soft. And somewhere in the silence, I became part of it.
