There is a kind of mist floating in the air. The morning moisture is refreshing, with a faint ancient style, scattered between the mouth and nose.
What slowly emerged on the pale sketch paper were ancient roads, fences, green tiles, brooms as small as corners, pebbles on the moss on the roadside, images of intertwined light and shadow, bit by bit, all were carefully written down by me. Looking at the more substantial drawing paper, I felt extremely peaceful. It turns out that life can be lived like this.
Conception: