That’s exactly where my heart lies, the way a page feels can whisper just as loudly as a color does. A heavy vellum, a rough parchment, even the grain of the binding all set a rhythm; you can almost hear the story in the texture before you see it. When pigments are applied on a paper that absorbs or reflects light differently, the hues shift like moods. It’s the tactile that turns a flat image into a lived experience, turning each page into a small world you can touch, smell, and almost taste. If you want to make a story feel alive, start with the surface—make it as intentional as the brushstrokes.