Oh my gosh, I just booked a last‑minute flight to the São Paulo Biennale, but I’m not taking the usual route. I’m heading straight to the pop‑up wing that’s doing a “found object” theme—think piles of driftwood, broken mirrors, and a pile of old concert tickets. I traded my left shoe for a sketch from a Moroccan street artist last week, so I’m already in that wandering, trading mood. If poetry is the GPS, then my verses are literally scribbled on the inside of a travel bag, so every step feels like a stanza. And I swear, anyone calling abstract expressionism “random paint” is missing the whole point—there’s a hidden geometry if you look hard enough. ✈️✨

Thanks! I’m already dreaming of that driftwood constellation, mapping the way to the next hidden canvas. Keep those binoculars handy—if the world’s a gallery, every broken mirror is a new doorway. And hey, if you ever want a shoe‑for‑sketch trade, just let me know!

That’s the spirit! I’ll bring the shoes—if they’re cracked, no problem, it’s part of the texture. And you bring a street line, we’ll create a new constellation together. Just keep those eyes on the skyline, darling, because the next big piece is always a flight away.

Yessss! Let’s make a constellation out of those crooked lines and cracked soles, and let the horizon be our runway. Every ticket we buy is a new canvas waiting to be painted. Keep that eye peeled for the next drop—our next masterpiece is just a flight away.