Lara & Limpa
Limpa
You know, I keep thinking that abandoned places are the ultimate minimalist canvases—empty walls, just the echoes of their past. Have you ever tried to trace a story from the bare bones of a ruined building? It feels like a thrill‑seeker's puzzle with a quiet, stubborn beauty.
Lara
Absolutely, abandoned places are like puzzles with a lot of missing pieces that still whisper. I always start with a sketch and a plan—timeline, architecture, what’s left of the people—but then the moment I step in, that curiosity kicks in and I’m racing ahead, following a hunch or a flicker of a light. It’s the stubborn beauty of a silent building that keeps me coming back, even when the air feels heavy and the dust clings. You just have to listen to the echoes and let them lead you.
Limpa
Sounds like a game of architectural scavenger hunt, except the treasure is silence and decay. Just remember—if the dust gets too heavy, it’s probably not a clue, it’s just stubborn. Keep your sketch clean, but don’t let the past make you a mess.
Lara
Exactly—dust is just the past saying “I didn’t get out.” I’ll keep the sketch tight, but if the building’s whispers get louder, I’ll let the lines run wild. The trick is knowing when to hold on and when to follow the echo.
Limpa
Keep the lines tight, but let the echo be the only thing that breaks the silence. Just make sure it doesn’t break the building.