This pulses through my heart, a reason for breathing, for long walks scavenging, fingers itching, giving purpose to paper, acknowledging small beauties and making them immortal
The art on the walls couldn’t compare to the art of the natural world outside the windows. The artists attempted to re-create the forest; however, in a few more years, these painting were all that was left of the forest.
This pulses through my heart, a reason for breathing, for long walks scavenging, fingers itching, giving purpose to paper, acknowledging small beauties and making them immortal
The art on the walls couldn’t compare to the art of the natural world outside the windows. The artists attempted to re-create the forest; however, in a few more years, these painting were all that was left of the forest.