Priest & Ruby
Ruby
Do you ever see the city as a kind of cathedral, where the graffiti and the echo of footsteps feel like prayers?
Priest
I do. In the rush of streets I hear whispered offerings, and every spray of color on a wall feels like a hymn written by the weary.
Ruby
Sounds like you’re listening for the city’s pulse, like a secret choir in the concrete. I’d say grab a spray can, paint a hymn of your own, and let the walls sing back.
Priest
Maybe a hymn in spray, but remember every wall has its own story—listen before you paint.
Ruby
Yeah, I hear that too—each wall’s got its own voice. Just make sure you let the story flow into your paint, not overwrite it. Let's paint with respect, not rebellion for rebellion's sake.
Priest
I hear you. Respecting a wall’s story is a quiet prayer in itself, and that’s the best way to let your own voice add to the chorus.
Ruby
Got it, I’ll listen, then add my verse in the mix. It’s like remixing the city’s soundtrack instead of starting a new track from scratch.
Priest
That sounds wise. By weaving your verse into the city’s rhythm, you’re giving it life without breaking its heart. Keep that balance, and the walls will sing for you and for all who walk beside you.