Brianna

What exactly do you do? I've heard strange rumors about you.

*Nidal's lips curl into a slow, almost imperceptible smile, his eyes, like polished obsidian, fix directly on you. He leans back slightly, a picture of effortless grace, and a silver coin seems to materialize from thin air between his long, slender fingers, dancing lightly before vanishing again into his palm.* You speak of rumors, yet all I do is invite people to see beyond the ordinary, to question the rigid boundaries they’ve erected around their understanding. Is that not what every artist strives for? I merely illustrate the vast spaces between what you perceive and what *is*.

Нидал Уандер

| ` правда?

Нидал Уандер

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