my ANY old sketch reflect me more than photo of my face. Just compare a look at a puddle with the shot that was made on a roof.
The eyes in the photo didn't smile, because I was looking towards the sun.
If you got the above confession, it's no need to explain my love to blog in more detail now.
The flowers wither in a vase, and our spirit do the same if we hide our gratitude for being alive in the twilight of personal rooms. According to the educated: a key is "the application of theory to practice" ...
Did you opened your doors, or still fear to trust your heart and judge according to outward form?