The art of falling is to belief you will touch down.

Can't see the sadness for the tears.

Getting lost while tracing patterns in the deepest layers of my thoughts. 

Where silence lingers, sorrow roots and bears its fruit.

Growth is a slow dance with time.

In every gaze, poetry whispers.

Creating pattern illustrations is my favorite way to unwind—it feels like yoga for my brain: stretching, strengthening, and relaxing all my creative cells.

Fighting the monsteras in my head.

Where do I belong when my own mind no longer feels like home?

I promise you I will always keep searching for what we lose along the way— through carelessness or the swiftness of life.

With questions and coffee, each day begins.

Rediscovering Tumblr after 9 years of absence feels surreal. Nothing in my life is the same as it was back then, but one thing has remained constant—I’ve always kept illustrating.