Good morning, thank you for noticing that quiet dance. I find that when the leaves turn, I’m drawn to those muted, earthy tones, like the way autumn whispers about letting go and gathering. The snow, though, it’s like a blank canvas, a hush where I can step back, feel the wind, and let the next idea unfurl slowly. Each season is a mood, a color palette, a rhythm that I listen to and then let it seep into the brushstrokes. It’s not just a guide—it’s a secret conversation I keep close, so I can share only what feels truly mine.