On a December day, when the earth awakens, and the air is cold, and the breath still uncertain and slow.
On a December day, filled with the excitement and joy of a brand new day in a mystical yet sour land, where stories of saints and knights tell of ancient times and different men.
A sour land where a gentle wind blows through the branches, and tell of myths never forgotten.
On a December day, where a shy sun begins to warm up the air
Stories and novels, stories and shades of words. Sapphire can be a voice, a whisper, a night talk. Colours in words, words merged and melted with pictures. Words as colours, words as shapes sometimes overlapping with the visual experience. A different way to see the world or, maybe, just the very same way using different tools and finding different paths.