This is an #incamera photo with no post-production composition.
Everything was captured in one shot.
And now I wake up just to dance, I'm not the muse of sorrows, Instead, I dance atop of grapes, Ideas of the morrow. And while I step on them, they ooze between my toes, the vital juice that only gods can drink and humans can believe, I'm not the muse of sorrows. I dance, as curious as cats, discovering my world, without premeditated acts, I'm humorous and jolly. The trauma threads are healing fast, my discipline is based on facts and habits sowed in fertile lands are shedding, blooming, armoring through me, I'm not the muse of sorrows. It's humbling, to be a rake, a watering can and garden the uncertain.
Poem based on Julia Soboleva‘s “babbling” on Instagram.
