Choosing the image of Milo, my seven-year-old cat, perched on the windowsill isn't random. There's something about his independence — his mysterious hours-long disappearances and assured returns — that intrigues me. Regardless of his bold adventures, he always regards our home as his sanctuary. His adventures, though untraceable, teach me a valuable lesson: embracing independence shouldn't mean severing our connections to what we call home.

Milo

One planet shines bright,
Called home, our sacred delight,
Treat with love, pure sight.

Space Hotel

The art of handwriting letters is steeped in nostalgia, something I deeply appreciate. There's an intimacy and attention to detail embedded in each penned word, a personal touch that digital communication often lacks. The surprise and delight on the receiver's end add an additional reward. Whether provoked by an urge for old-school charm or a desire for a deeper emotional connection, writing letters has become a personal signature for me, representing an era that embraced simplicity in expression.

Handwritten

Upon a canvas, I've chosen with care,
An emblem of strength, draped in serenity fair.
A horse, in its power, elegance combined,
Mirroring my soul, our fates intertwined.

Robust in physique, with a gentle embrace,
Inspiring a quiet strength in its trace.
A paradox of power in a delicate caper,
Such is the beauty of my noble draper.