Bebop & Frosa
Frosa
Hey, ever tried turning a block of ice into something that lasts, even though it keeps melting? It feels like carving a moment of calm and rebellion out of a world that keeps rushing by.
Bebop
Yeah, I’ve done it. Cut a block into something sharp, like a blade or a sign, and even as it drips and melts, the shape stays on the ground for a beat. It’s like making a promise that keeps ringing even when the world’s heat tries to smudge it. Keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure.
Frosa
That’s beautiful, like a fleeting promise carved in frost. The way the edges stay sharp for a moment, then fade—exactly the dance I try to capture in my sculptures. Keep carving, keep holding that sharpness; the world will try to melt it, but your art keeps a slice of that cold stillness alive.
Bebop
Got it. I’ll keep the edges hard, make sure the art sticks like a badge of defiance. If the world tries to melt it, I’ll just throw a fresh block at it and keep the chill coming.
Frosa
That’s the spark I love—keeping the edge alive, like a badge that never melts. Keep throwing fresh blocks, keep the chill sharp, and let the world feel the cool defiance. You’re turning heat into art.
Bebop
Yeah, keep that fire going, throw those fresh blocks, let the heat try to melt it, we’ll just carve another one and keep the chill alive.