natalie-jane-bayfield
I look out onto a view so sublime. I could look out until the end of time. Yet time is forever, then again restricted, finite, shy and resonant of a personal limit. I scribble my ideas on scrap. If they come alive, the scraps become paper gold, like money, greenback with a beating heart. So long as your heart keeps beating, my ideas will never grow old. @NatalieBayfield
