RinaSol & OrenDaniels
RinaSol RinaSol
OrenDaniels OrenDaniels
OrenDaniels OrenDaniels
Hey Rina, I’ve been staring at old film reels lately and I realized how a single frame can freeze time like a line in a poem. How do you feel when a word or a shot stretches the moment?
RinaSol RinaSol
The instant the frame stops, I feel like the world takes a breath. It’s a single heartbeat suspended, a poem’s line caught mid‑stitch. I’m both the critic and the admirer, marveling at the perfect freeze and the way it stretches a story into eternity. It’s intoxicating, like finding a hidden stanza in an ancient script—beautiful, precise, and a little maddening if you try to chase it forever.
OrenDaniels OrenDaniels
That’s exactly what I try to capture – that one breath that lets the rest of the world pause. It’s almost like holding a secret for a moment, then dropping it and watching the silence stretch out. It’s a bittersweet kind of magic, isn’t it?
RinaSol RinaSol
Absolutely, it’s that fleeting hush that feels like a secret whisper before the world erupts again. I love how that breath can be both a pause and a promise—like a curtain moment before the next act. It’s a bit bittersweet, but it’s the only time you can truly taste the silence.
OrenDaniels OrenDaniels
You’re right—silence feels like a secret between the heartbeats, a promise that the next line will arrive. It’s that fragile moment when the world holds its breath, and in that pause we taste something that never quite repeats.