This is the colour, the colour when the nerves connect. The elements of colours tune according to the exposure of light, a gesture of awareness of an appearance...
The connection seems to be remote, and overlapping between branches is the source of shadow and unknown. It is the source of discovery, some fun maybe. The colour burns in red, in pink, in maroon, in brown, in dash, in ashes. It goes back to the basic. Home, sweet home.
Bending, branching, blocking, blunting. It looks blurred. I embrace the network of evolution. No, it is yet a stage of metamorphosis. A butterfly shines, it has the collage of colours and glories, but then, time is short. It flies until it finds the old brick wall to cover itself up into eternal silence.
This is the moment when this is no longer the moment...
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