This painting, for example, was born from a photo shared on Nostr by an artist friend whose gaze I deeply respect:

nostr:nprofile1qqst0rspz9gz7s6m0cte7z4udauf3cacxxwu3wj6uscyq43lfvvaqjcpzemhxue69uhhyetvv9ujuum5dahx2u3wvdhk6qgdwaehxw309aukzcn49ekk2qgewaehxw309ashyapwdehhxarjveex2cttwvhxxmmdmz4aep

It struck me instantly — the light, the silence, the stillness.

I didn’t want to copy it, but to walk through it.

Slowly, the windmill rose from the canvas

like a thought that doesn’t ask to be noticed, yet stays.