There is something poetic in every simple white wall. No need for luxury painted canvases, luxury lights — just the quiet presence of simple moments, little daylight, some shadows and a couple of cute insects around.
This morning, I noticed three things that seemed completely unrelated but somehow, they linked and formed this blog.
Hanging silently on the wall, right on a spot where paint had peeled, a delicate creature with wings of glass and legs like threads was standing there, watching me (or I am just imagining that, hihi). It stood still, as if lost in thought.
I didn't chase it away, there was no need. Room was big enough for both of us. In a strange way, it felt like this insect had paused here to admire the quiet, too. As if the crack in the wall was a piece of abstract art only it could understand. 
Not far away, on the other wall, hangs a circular collection of stories, souvenirs from places once visited, colors of old cities, characters from long walks.
There’s a tram from Istanbul, a bear from Tara, a wolf Vučko (Olympic mascot of the 1984 Winter Olympics) from Sarajevo. Each piece is held in place not just by magnets, but by memories. It’s like a quiet gallery, where nostalgia and joy shake hands. Some might call it clutter, I call it a compass.
Later that day, a tiny black spider crossed the sofa, blending with its texture like ink on paper. It moved with purpose, but not with hurry.
Its presence felt natural, even comforting. "He" wasn’t a stranger, it was part of the rhythm of the white walls room. Like a note in a calm melody you didn’t know you were humming.
We looked at each other for a second, maybe two. Then it continued its journey, and I returned to mine.
→ Let’s enjoy calm mornings and small things.
→ Let’s welcome tiny visitors.
→ Let’s look at our walls, our rooms, and find joy in them.
If this feels true to you, feel free to share your thoughts. Like a footprint in soft sand, your words are welcome here. ㅤ♡ ㅤ