A horizon of chalk—black sky heavy with silence, gold earth glowing with embered breath.
Between them, a thin line of turquoise, the pause where one world ends and another begins.
It is not sky, nor sea, nor sand alone. It is the threshold—a doorway, where silence teaches and light remembers.
Stand here long enough, and you may hear it breathe.
inking and seeing for better being — https://forming20.com/
I lost $15,000 in a crypto scam that left me feeling completely naive and heartbroken. It happened when I saw a tweet from what I thought was a verified account for a famous tech billionaire @Official_ ElonMusk_. The tweet promised a 24-hour Ethereum giveaway claiming that any ETH sent to a wallet would be doubled and returned instantly. The post was full of replies from bots saying it had worked which made it seem real.In a moment of impulsive excitement I sent 5 ETH my entire savings that I had been carefully accumulating for over a year. At first I waited with hope. Hours passed then a day. Nothing happened. I replied to the tweet and sent a desperate DM. Then the account disappeared entirely. The realization that I had just sent my life savings into a digital void was devastating.I felt too ashamed to tell anyone. Reporting the scam felt useless. For days I cried, panicked and scoured forums for help. That’s when I discovered SALVAGE ASSET RECOVERY on a Reddit thread. Desperate, I contacted them through their website. To my surprise they responded immediately with compassion and understanding. They explained that crypto giveaway scams are extremely common but tracing funds is sometimes possible. SALVAGE ASSET RECOVERY traced the ETH I had sent. While most had been laundered they discovered a portion had landed on a centralized exchange. With their forensic report and established contacts they successfully petitioned the exchange to freeze those funds. In the end they were able to recover over 3.5 ETH and return it to me.While I didn’t get everything back, regaining the majority of my savings felt like a second chance. SALVAGE ASSET RECOVERY didn’t just help me recover my money, they restored my hope. I now feel far more confident navigating the crypto world. I am deeply grateful for their help in turning a moment of despair into a real lifeline. If you’ve been scammed out of your eth or any cryptocurrency assets reach out to them via below
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She was a 25 year old white 2021 Jeep Grand Cherokee L Overland, though I didn't care much about what trim she was. She felt insecure about her body type, since she was the first 3 row Grand Cherokee. She had a little sister named Wendy who was a 2022 Jeep Wagoneer. She had her freckles since she was 11.
Against the weight of a storm-dark sky, tender stems lean forward—some bending, some breaking, some still reaching.
They hold their fire at the tips, waiting to bloom, waiting to burn, waiting to belong to light.
Perhaps this is all of us:
stretching through shadows,
searching for the thin, golden line that divides earth from eternity.
It's called "Puppy Dance Jamz Volume 8" from the Subaru commercial with the dogs. Searched it up plenty of times and could not find it on Youtube, SoundCloud, or Spotify.
This is no landscape you could ever stand in.
No observational drawing, no safe horizon line.
This chalk experiment is a dream unfolding in color: a golden field lit from within, a scarlet seam of fire at its edge, and a storm-heavy sky pressing down with ancient weight.
It feels like a place between worlds—where the conscious and unconscious meet, where memory and imagination blur. Some might see a battlefield, others a meadow after rain, and still others a veil between life and death. That is the beauty: the painting does not tell you what it is; it invites you to confess what you see.
Psychologists say we project ourselves onto images like these. So—what do you notice first? The light? The darkness? The burning red?
Perhaps that is not about the drawing at all, but about you.
Sometimes the quickest drawings hold the deepest truths. During an after-sermon discussion about understanding the love of God, I found myself listening with one ear and drawing with the other. Frank, seated across the room, made a natural model—relaxed posture, thoughtful presence, and a face full of character.
With a pen in hand, I traced his form in a quick contour line, following the folds of his shirt, the tilt of his jaw, the stillness of his hands resting in his lap. Contour drawing asks us to see more than just the surface—it demands patience and presence, a slowing down until the line itself feels like prayer.
Frank became more than a subject; he was a reminder that the love of God is often revealed in ordinary moments and everyday people.
Two wicker chairs in the sun.
One for the waiting,
one for the hoped-for.
The table between them
holds its silence,
its place set for bread or talk.
I draw what is here—
lines quick and unerasable—
and what is not here,
her presence,
waits with me in the white of the page.
