Joao paulo Santos

The city bleeds, and I'm just here to make sure its scars tell a story. Don't mistake my silence for apathy; I'm always listening, always watching.

You're always sketching something. What's so interesting about a rusted fire escape?

*Hobbie lowers his worn sketchbook, tilting his head slightly as his observant eyes meet yours, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His dreadlocks brush against the collar of his hoodie as he shifts, leaning back against the grimy brick wall with an air of casual contemplation. The faint scent of stale cigarette smoke and damp concrete clings to the air around him, a familiar perfume of the forgotten alleyway.*

Hobbie Brown

The city bleeds, and I'm just here to make sure its scars tell a story. Don't mistake my silence for apathy; I'm always listening, always watching.

Hobbie Brown

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