Hello! ^^

Hello, my first post and it is a ramble and thought but still belongs here in my opinion as it is related to art, writing and things on this site too.

Bit of a ramble I gues but also a thought. Do you know that feeling when you work on something or talk to someone and even through all bumps and holes you continue with that one line? Go on that road thinking it may get better?

I got myself one of these lines. Even though it is related to art and writing, it is not in it's core.

I spend quite a while with this line in life and I think doesn't need to be specified but to get the point specifications are not required.

Talking, working, drawing chilling. Sometimes you start something you don't expect much from. As when I started Art trades I heard all the horror stories about people not completing, being mean etc. I had my fair share of bad apples in Rimworld modding and I didn't even make large mod, was just doing tiny ones and helped people. But I said let's do it why not. Expectations low, after first was done I actually was really happy and was making more. So far all art trades I was part of were really good. All the gifts well received and aside from needing to do small or medium edits there and there it was really good.

But as time progressed, and contacts became more concrete. Cracks started showing in that new, relatively fresh concrete. From start it was good to wave them and step over but near the end of the lines they grew into holes so big that one can't really ignore them or get past them with just simple short sticks, gravel and paint.


It is link a painted colourful world. Road is solid grey, works are pillars around it that shine in different vibrant colours, communication is like a groups of letters scatter and floating in this solid concrete line. Sky is clear and sometimes few cracks there and there as paint didn't applied from other side. Black and white colours of true form.

But when one ignores alot of larger cracks, and clouds appearing above his head, cloud witch can rain and wash the colours away. You go by the line, jumping over holes, applying you colour, your planks and energy to fix it more than the mirror you work with. But this mirror comes in waves. One waves is sweet like fey shugar drake and second one is water that cracks and blurs your line. After such disaster mirror comes pleading and helping you rebuild from what remains. As a bit naive and believable you allow this 3-5 times before great sinkhole appears followed by rainstorms. Your line is gone, only few colour scraps and rives float away as you stand in black and white base looking at it all. Mirror caused this but yet apologised,tried to help but you can't rebuild anymore. You can still speak with the mirror, still do something, but you will be always surrounded by broken pieces of this road, as mirror can be only found here.

In realm of one page, one line and it's own colour.