An immersive, poetic story unfolding before you … step inside and see what you feel.
And years from now, the world has shifted.
Our names are etched on tiny brass plaques beside oil and canvas.
The air smells faintly of varnish and time.
In the quiet halls of a museum, our faces stare out from gilded frames.
A pair of strangers drifts past. One pauses, caught by the weight of our gaze.
They tilt their head, eyes narrowing in that way people do when something stirs but has no name yet.
A single word escapes their lips, soft and certain.
It hovers between them like a secret, then dissolves into the hum of footsteps on marble.
Later, a solitary figure approaches, moving slowly as though not to disturb the moment.
They stop before us, hands clasped behind their back, and lean in.
In their chest, a thought blooms, tender and unbidden I know this feeling.
It is not recognition of the face, but of the ache, the longing, the quiet defiance that lives in the colors.
They leave, but carry us with them.
And so the painting continues, not just on the wall,
but in the unguarded hearts of those who dared to stop and see.
