I had no idea you were so sure. If had then I would've acted much dumber.

Is it nostalgia or is it the last moment in which you truly loved yourself?

Life in the box. The stakes are so high, and yet they don't exist. Maybe you'll die? Or maybe you'll die...

I used to think, "It's not so simple..." Let's make it complicated then. Turns out it is so simple after all... I just didn't know how to let it be. Set me free. Let me sit with trees.

If I lost my mind, would you pick it up for me and place it somewhere nice where I would find it again? Like next to my favorite tree. You know, the big one next to the river.

We came here, to the box, to feel something. But

A piece of art isn't finished until it's seen.

I think I just realized drawing is like writing: you don't have to know where you're going. You just start, and it takes you somewhere unexpected.