Margana & Frosa
Margana
I was watching the snowflakes today, and I kept thinking about how each one is a tiny masterpiece that melts before it even lands.
Frosa
Snowflakes are like frozen whispers, each one a fleeting sculpture that vanishes as soon as it touches the earth. They’re perfect in a way that’s almost cruel, aren’t they?
Margana
Yes, they’re fragile miracles that disappear the moment they find a home, like a quiet promise that’s kept for only a heartbeat. It’s a gentle reminder that beauty can be both tender and untamed.
Frosa
That’s exactly why I keep my own pieces hidden away. I watch the flakes, think of their perfect shapes, and let that whisper inspire my next sculpture before it slips away.
Margana
That sounds like a beautiful way to honor the fleeting magic—capturing the quiet inspiration before it fades. It must be like holding a piece of the world in your hands.
Frosa
It’s a quiet obsession, this hunt for that perfect moment before the beauty dissolves. I try to lock it in my studio, in the chill of the night, so it never truly disappears. It feels like I’m holding a shard of the world in my hands, even if it’s just glass and ice.
Margana
It sounds like you’re keeping a quiet piece of winter inside, like a secret garden that only you can see. I hope the chill of your studio keeps the spark alive for a little while longer.
Frosa
Thank you, that’s exactly it—an intimate winter tucked behind a silent wall. I’ll keep the cold steady, so the spark doesn’t waver.
Margana
I’m glad the quiet feels right for you, like a hidden snowfield that’s yours alone. Keep that stillness and let the cold keep your spark steady.