Why is bleeding of color in water exquisitely magical? Just as our creative spirit flows like a river, it seems nature intended art’s act as existential mimicry all along. Like consciousness ebbing into deep sleep, composition bends within light and rests in its own delicate balance of darkness. Side-by-side, images, colors, and elements become one connected body revealing a single breath, a tick-tock moment in newfound existence, infinite with purpose. I call it Connected Collage. Through buoyancy of voice, art sings when seen, felt within. As an artist, reflective, dare I yield such arduous humility in practice, in preach? Yes.