Rare things tend to find their guardian. When something stirs in my world, seeking its home, you'll hear about it first.
I breathe life into one precious moment at a time—no more, no less. When one finds their place in this world, space opens for the next.
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The most beautiful things whisper. They don't compete for attention—they reward it...
Dew of the Sea
A bath as an apothecary. Warm water and a splash as a machine to somewhere else. A potion, brewed under the mysterious alignment of the most southern stars and slowly aged while being sweetly sung to by blue jays while it slept.
2000 litres were lovingly made by me. That’s an immeasurable number of baths that took it’s bathers to a place that only they and I now know. We all met there in silence, on the edge of creation, in private conversation with ourselves.
What’s left of Dew of the Sea, Rosmariunus, remains out there in the world with those who stockpiled enough, and continue to keep their stash a secret.
Far Away Farm
I hope to find a hidden door. Behind it is a lantern in the snow. Following a faun’s tune, I could walk softly into a hidden realm and here I walk shoulder to shoulder with my lion, ride even further atop a centaur’s gallop and finally board a mighty galleon, its name blazed in gold across its stern. The Dawn Treader.
Before I reach World’s End, I find a hidden place that glows with an eternal warmth, as if every season has intertwined in perfect harmony. The grass is as soft as emerald velvet, the trees heavy with blossoms, and a table is laden with a feast of peaches, Turkish Delight, and pink sparkling wine.
The stars seem to linger closer to the Earth here…