I began to feel a pinch of discomfort in my eyes so i blinked. Upon blinking more than once; i opened my eyes to see. Blackish gray painted on the graffitti walls glowed as i stood feet away. There she was, swaying with strokes of her brush, like a puppeteer handling her manequin, paint swiivelled across the huge canvas; imagination pouring out of her consciousness. Behind her was a grand facade of arched windows, remains of burnt wood along the sills, a piece of steel net hanging out from between two bricks higher up. The wall was standing, just freely standing there; a backdrop for her strokes of genius. There was overgrown vegetation peeking out from the gaps of the red brown wall. White pebbles graced the ground it stood on. It looked so unreal, almost smelled beautiful but i knew that had to be untrue. She slowly moved away and turned herself towards the glass on her right. A divine light seemed to somehow pierce through the thickness and through the inverted jagged lines of its top between and beneath the glass, making its way to catch my attention. The inside of a studio space, visible from the glass; the curvature of the opposite end, although static; was everything that seemed just out of reality. Though the walls remained in that space in time; i was uncertain of mine. A drifting passage of harmony so oblivious to my becoming became the only source of support for someone like me. I stayed. I dreamed. I admired. I felt it. I could just stay there for yet another moment before folding inwards.