mornings feel raw like that. this small ritual of circling my work, of simply being with it. open, unfinished, little uncertain, alive. like anything could happen. it’s not about producing. it’s about noticing. about returning. not
love, what it does 

feel it in one place and 
somewhere else. sometimes it starts Iike a dream and doesn’t fully leave. 
a love that has tension. 
that become still sometimes.
a love that shifts. 
that’s with you, wrapped. 
a love tha
some places hold you anyway. always returning. somehow. a practice of presence.
beauty of moments exists because they won’t repeat. a moment is the smallest movement in time that the mind manages to hold. 

sometimes a small, maybe even random moment, or tough one carry something further.

sometimes we come back to an
putting my skin into anything second layer, everywhere. tracing where the snake skin has gone. still mine.
This has been like a year-long conversation with a pulse, a living condition. This is what staying with something looks like. This is time to let go. Even though the year has turned, I’m still inside this drawings and moments that shaped them.
Skin sheds like an error. Life does coexist with the body. There’s something kind of brave about paying attention. It’s beautiful and messy to feel into the body. Dropping in means letting yourself be moved, confused, softened, unsettled
The heart recognizes From lack to presence. From missing to holding. Starting the year in Portugal and returning to the ocean wasn’t about escape or answers. 
Returning to what feels familiar, wide and warm. Being there felt like exhaling aft
The year didn’t just add weight - it added breadth. Took away following thoughts from 2025. 2025 is still exhaling. It was a lot to feel, a lot to notice - joy, worry, and that beautifully strange in-between. A chest-heavy, quiet-loud year th
Touched on a lot of things the last year. My skill isn’t one discipline - its visions, ideas. 
Some still carry something I wanna continue and follow. 
Others started, slapped me out.
Some carry a silents, something in-between to built. 
Some
this is what staying with something looks like. the serpent became a symbol I return to. over the past years, I kept drawing. at the beginning of this year, one each week — without knowing how intense the process would become. they grew from w
what began spontaneous became part of my artistic path. it’s a symbol, but also a sensation. a reminder that creation starts messy, instinctive, unguarded and that some marks stay with us. the serpent carved its way into my visual language.
distant love miss what matteres - is a proof that it held real value in our lives. this year has been different. wild, quiet in loud ways. as a creative ocean-dwelling soul, I have been by the ocean too rarely this year. and I miss it. I miss th
love isn’t something we find, its something we feel. in living. in paying attention. in being amazed. and that it isn’t just found in ease - but also in the effort. it’s a practice. it’s what remains when inspiration fad
pause and progress at once. lines divide not to separate but to shift perspective lines look clear from above but clarity isn’t about control it’s about attention in between one thing and the next standing slightly sideways to it a
stay forever feelings. in this fast pace world where we rush. multiply things happen. we kinda loose being in the moment, let things linger - it is almost an act of resistance in a world that rewards speed. last year at this time I spent some days

@anyvaye

any as the intention, openness, possibility
way as the movement, direction, motion