Dreams, textures and quiet rebellion.

This space is a visual journal. A place for images that carry silence, softness, stillness.

Everything here is AI-assisted — but I don’t see it as automation. I see it as a tool. I choose. I guide. I curate.

I believe in beauty that doesn’t beg for attention. I create not to impress, but to express.

When leaves fall, the fox awakens.

The whisper of the nine-tailed fox drifts through the golden autumn forest 🍂🦊

A fanmade cinematic clip inspired by the myth of the Kumiho and the timeless beauty of K-dramas.

Music: Night Flight by Vanessa Mae — haunting, enchanting, eternal.

It’s about the fragments, the glitches, the half-faces.

Some call it an error — I call it cinema. The cropped gaze, the unfinished frame, the texture of skin that feels too real to be plastic.

While many complain about seven fingers and porcelain dolls, I see stories, moods, and photographs waiting to exist.

She doesn't speak.

The silence speaks for her.

This series is a dive into textures that move, shimmer, and breathe — even when still.

Every curve and fold was born from AI, but they were handpicked, refined, and curated with intent. I spent hours shaping light, choosing flow, and polishing details until each piece felt alive. Like fabric in motion. Like metal melting into night.

These aren’t just abstract textures — they’re tactile memories of something luxurious, electric, and hard to name.

A collection of stillness, softness, and touch you can’t quite reach.

I’ve always been drawn to the feeling of distance. Not the cold kind — but the soft one. Like fog on a window. Or a flower behind frosted glass.

These pieces were created with AI, yes. But then they were touched. Layered. Adjusted. Retouched by hand - because silence, too, needs curation.

I softened harsh lines. Tuned the whites until they whispered. Blurred reality just enough to feel dreamlike.

This series is about fragility. About beauty that doesn’t try to bloom - it just exists. And sometimes, all we can do is watch it from the other side of the glass.

A quiet beginning.

These aren't just horses. They’re vessels of balance, strength, and stillness — stripped of all noise, presented in light. This is where Softlife starts: not with shouts, but with presence.