I remember I used to draw a lot. It didn’t matter where I was standing, if it was raining or if it was freezing, most importantly, what mattered to me was that I drew my best.

I felt a great joy just doing, not competing with anything, to do this very private thing. I had stopped drawing when I moved away from Lisbon. I don’t know why but I felt that time moved differently.

Yesterday I found an old drawing. A drawing of my friend’s parents they own a cafe next to a park where they sell sonhos. Perhaps I would go back to drawing again.

Published by veniceCa

I'm in love with tiny details

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