There is poetry, there is beauty and there is ugliness in this work; there is dirt and there is something precious, something I couldn't let go to forever. Something you wouldn't let go to but with lots of tears and trouble taken: something everyone holds dear to once they get to know and everybody wants when they don't have but see in others and other places. A search of something beautifully shaped is what I propose. It is of mud and dirt that many houses got build, right? Well, find what's gold and what can be reshaped and transformed into 'a house of your dreams'.
"After the storm peaceful times come, serene and wonderful."
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