Persik & Solenie
Solenie
Hey Persik, I’m dreaming up a project where the hum of a city street turns into a living poem—colorful, chaotic, but with that sweet, fleeting vibe you love. What do you think?
Persik
That sounds like a sweet idea, like a fruit salad of sounds, the city humming like ripe berries, each beat a verse. I'm in, let's make the streets sing.
Solenie
That’s it! I’m picturing neon lights turning into stardust and puddles reflecting tiny symphonies. Let’s sketch the first beat—just a quick splash of color and sound. Ready to paint the street?
Persik
I can picture it—neon flickering like fireflies, the puddle a silver mirror, each splash a tiny chorus. Let’s start with a single, bright splash and let the rhythm unfold. I'm ready, paint the first beat.
Solenie
First splash—imagine a neon green line jumping across the gray, splattering like a bright firefly. It’s the pulse of the night, a single note that says, “Hey, let’s start.” Now, imagine that splash echoing, rippling out, turning the whole street into a living rhythm. What’s the next color you’d want to fling?
Persik
I’d let a gentle lavender thread weave through, like moonlit petals brushing the pavement, adding a dreamlike hush to the neon pulse. The street would hum in soft violet, a calm echo that invites the next splash.