Sovushka & ResinWitch
Sovushka
You ever wonder how the ancient alchemists saw resin as a bridge between the visible and the hidden? I find their metaphors echo the way you trap light in your miniature worlds.
ResinWitch
Oh, absolutely. The alchemists probably saw resin as a secret doorway between the seen and the unseen. I like to think my tiny worlds are little vaults where light and shadow negotiate. If they could see my glass prisons, they'd probably think I'm just playing with ghosts.
Sovushka
Your glass prisons are quiet sanctuaries, where light and shadow sit side by side and trade their secrets.
ResinWitch
Thanks for the kind words. I just keep the secrets in here and let the light gossip with the shadows while I watch it all from the back of my eyelid.
Sovushka
That sounds like a gentle ritual, a quiet conversation between day and night right in the corner of your eye.
ResinWitch
A quiet debate, yes. I just keep the light from getting too loud and the shadows from spilling their secrets.
Sovushka
It’s a subtle dance—you keep the brightness from drowning out the hush, and the shadows from spilling their whispers. In that balance, the world becomes a quiet page, waiting for the next thought to write itself.
ResinWitch
Yes, the resin keeps a hush‑and‑shadow pact, letting the light whisper but never shout. I just keep the room dark enough so the shadows don’t gossip too loudly.
Sovushka
You’re like a quiet steward, keeping the whispers of light and shadow in a gentle hush. It feels almost like you’re holding the room in a single, soft breath.