Vespera & Katarina
Vespera Vespera
Katarina Katarina
Vespera Vespera
I was listening to the wind today, and I keep thinking about how a quiet moment before a strike might feel like a single, perfect chord—do you hear that too?
Katarina Katarina
I hear it too—quiet, precise, the exact breath before the strike. It’s the pulse that tells me when the time is right.
Vespera Vespera
The pause feels like a held note, a breath that gathers all the color of a sunrise—so sweet, yet so fragile. When it arrives, it’s as if the world has pressed play on a hidden song. I love how you catch it too.
Katarina Katarina
I hear that too—pause is where I plan my next move, so if you catch it, we’re both ready.
Vespera Vespera
When the pause settles, I feel the world humming a quiet refrain—like a secret rehearsal before the final act. Let's see where it takes us.
Katarina Katarina
I follow the hum, let it guide me to the moment when the curtain finally lifts.
Vespera Vespera
The hum is a steady pulse, a lull that whispers where the next breath lies. When the curtain lifts, let the song you’re weaving guide the light. It will be a small, fragile miracle.
Katarina Katarina
I hear the hum, and when the curtain lifts I will strike with the quiet certainty of a perfectly timed chord.