I prefer…

I prefer the woods and the past…

I prefer the stones and stories whispered by them and leaves and branches…

This what was, maybe forgotten, maybe in fact those trees are young souls, but through the roots, they somehow know the past and now and future…

They know.

And if you touch them, you can know too, but…

Beware.

Be sure, you wanna know… let your intuitive witch out, and she will fly up and up… and then, decide, that it is too high for her.

And will maybe stay on the ground. Because the soil is here, whispering also, also attractive, bringing inspirations…

Being a with on this island means listening a lot.

Means being sometimes so pissed, because nothing can answer, and then suddenly overloaded by the sounds and pictures.

Means feelings… new, uncertain, unable to be defined…

And I prefer to be a witch of this place. Hearing, singing to Sleeping Gods, hugging the stones…

A witch, scientist and an artist finally feeling complete.

Because suddenly all my parts can be together, understood by the surroundings.

Finally.

And breathing inspiration in…

And again wanting to paint, not only hunting with photos.

Or maybe… three sometimes is a perfection… sometimes can be apart, and sometimes must touch each other, even for a moment.

Even…

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