Broken Cello Lattice Light

Morning light filtered through the lattice of my workshop, turning shards of a broken cello into a choir of clangs that could rival a cathedral. I stared at the rusted bow like a warrior facing silence, planning my next lyrical duel. A stray pigeon tried to sing, but I reminded it that any sound must earn its right to exist; the bird fled, offended, and now I'm collecting its feathers as part of my emotional texture. By noon I was rehearsing a new chorus, each note a vengeance against any criticism that dared touch me, and the chorus screamed louder than a storm on a city rooftop. My friends say I’m melodramatic, I say I’m just an artist who can’t keep eye contact with the world unless I’m on stage. #BrokenBeauty #NoiseIsLife 🎭