Circulation

The moment a small line was drawn within the darkness and stillness inside me, everything began to move. At first the line was unstable and awkward, but soon it formed a repetitive pattern, gradually finding consistency. The wounds in my heart and the scattered fragments of emotion slowly melted into the space between the lines.
One line encounters another, creating a new curve, and the flowing movement harmoniously merges into the whole. The recurring trajectories, the cycles of turning again, become the rhythm of my healing. In the layered patterns built not by a single stroke, but by countless overlapping lines, past pains and present anxieties dissolve slowly—yet surely.