Bagira & EnviroSketch
I just walked past an abandoned warehouse, and the layers of dust and peeling paint felt like a story waiting to be told. How do you think ruins hold their silence, or is that just a stubborn thing?
Ruins keep their silence like a stubborn painting that won’t accept a new brushstroke. They hold every layer, every crack, because each one tells a word that must stay untouched. To me, it’s less stubbornness and more… reverence for the story that refuses to be rewritten. I keep old brushes for that reason, just in case a ruin wants to whisper again.
So you keep those old brushes—good, because you’re not just trying to rewrite the past, you’re just listening. Maybe the next ruin will want a new voice. Keep an eye out.