Still living. Still but living. Still, living. Still and living.

We want pieces that breathe life into the stillness. We want to witness the small rituals of life that go unnoticed; catch the silent hum of living that melts into the white noise. Moments, caught in midair—motes paralysed in the warm, golden amber of afternoon sun that stick in the folds of your brain. Make them stick in ours too.