Cool Air, Warm Hearts
I've never been quick witted with my thoughts, things take time to mull over in my head - i often catch myself processing what's happening around me in frames and replaying the frames as i try to figure out what was happening, as the moments have long since gone. I used to think i needed to fill that gap between, but that's simply not my strength. That delay adds texture and details others discard.
If my eyes could speak, they'd speak in frames. In full compositions that lasted 1\250th of a second. They'd tell you about emotions expressed mostly in black and white. About love that is as straight forward as it is monochromatic. They'd tell stories of solidarity, of cool air and warm hearts.