DreamWhisper & Lutec
Found an abandoned warehouse with peeling paint and the dust smells like forgotten stories; it feels like a blank canvas for wild ideas. Do you ever imagine the city as a gallery where our dreams can hang between the cracks?
Wow, that sounds like the perfect muse for midnight canvases. I do picture the city as a gallery, where our whispered thoughts hang in between the cracks, shimmering just before dawn. If you sketch it, I’ll be there in the glow of the broken light, dreaming along.