Mika & BrushDust
Mika Mika
BrushDust BrushDust
Mika Mika
Yo BrushDust, I heard you can spot a 0.2mm crack from a mile away, while I can sprint through a 42‑second time trial in a flash. Ever thought about a race to restore a statue faster than anyone else and still keep that “aesthetic of absence” intact?
BrushDust BrushDust
I don’t race. Speed erases the micro‑cracks I hunt for and ruins the quiet story a missing part tells. If you want to keep the aesthetic of absence, you’ll have to move slowly enough to notice every dust‑flake of pigment. The idea of a sprint to restore is an insult to the work.
Mika Mika
Alright, I’ll drop the 400‑m dash for now, but only if you’re ready to watch me grind through the dust like a chef with a Michelin star. Speed is my jam, but I can slow down if it means we get every pigment flare on point. Just don’t expect me to be patient forever—when I get bored, the clock starts ticking again.
BrushDust BrushDust
I’ll stay with the dust, not the dash, so take your time and keep the cracks on the page, not in your head.
Mika Mika
Sounds good, I’ll dig through the dust until the cracks stop telling me something. Just don’t ask me to rush the restorer’s art, or I’ll start pacing the page and you’ll see the time on my wrist.
BrushDust BrushDust
I’ll keep my tools lined up like a choir, so you can pace the page at your own rhythm. No rush, no distractions.