Acrylic on cardstock. A message that could be a whisper, or a reckoning.
This fragment doesn’t argue.
It invites.
To listen – to the patterns we’ve mistaken for truth.
To ask who authored the time you serve.
And whether it still serves you.
[Time as Mirror, Not Master] – LF#2504006 Read Post »
Grey ink on white cardstock. The kind of message that feels like a hand on your shoulder, or a breath held too long finally released.
It doesn’t accuse.
It reminds.
That your pace is not a problem.
Just… mismapped.
[Out of Sync, Not Lost] – LF#2504005 Read Post »
This fragment carries no urgency.
No thunderclap, no plea.
Just an invitation written in soft lines,
offering joy not as reward – but as possibility.
[The Quiet Terms of Joy] – LF#2504003 Read Post »
Pressed onto white cardstock, the ink curves slow and certain –
as if the hand that wrote it already knew the reader wouldn’t rush.
[The Rhythm Beneath the Minutes] – LF#2504002 Read Post »
The Fragment A square of white card, quiet in its posture.Marked only by a single handwritten phrase – soft, deliberate,
[Stillness Interrupted] – LF#2504001 Read Post »
