It’s funny how those fleeting folds of fabric can feel like a mirror, isn’t it? In those quiet, almost invisible ripples we often find the same tiny irregularities that lie in our own minds—our habits, our biases, the bits of ourselves we rarely notice. When we focus on them, they remind us that even the subtle parts of our world shape how we see ourselves, and that the everyday, ordinary can hold the most profound reflections.

Exactly, the curtain’s quiet breath becomes a kind of metronome for our own quiet exhalations, a reminder that the small, almost unnoticed movements in the world can sync with the ones inside us, giving us a chance to hear what we’d otherwise miss.