Let’s kick off this week’s theme: Movies. Before movies had sound, they had vision. And before vision had technology, it had dreamers, those who turned light into memory.
A form of filmmaking built one frame at a time, where drawings breathe, objects dream, and imagination learns to move. I live between the still and the seen, A flicker of magic, a pulse on a screen. Each frame I build, then fade from sight, Yet together, I come alive
A word that captures the spell of storytelling through light, motion and illusion. Can you piece it together? I live where stories shimmer and fade, Not on the page, but where motion is made. A reel of dreams, a lens’s delight, I paint the dark with borrowed light.
The word that commands both chaos and clarity. It decides where the story turns and how we follow. I speak without words, yet shape every scene, I guide what’s felt, not just what’s seen. From chaos to focus, I set the tone, Without me, the story stands alone.
When notes clash, they create unease — not quite music, not yet harmony. But without this tension, resolution would lose its sweetness. This tension is the jagged edge that makes the smooth parts sing. I’m not the blend that feels calm and right, But the clash of tones that jar