Where the Light Breaks FRAMED

A hush falls over the horizon. The sky, tender with grey silence, leans into a sea of shadow and froth — as if night has not yet made up its mind.

In the lower left, the dark tide churns — tangled, raw, electric. Like memory pulled from deep within, its tendrils stretch, reaching into the light.
There, a quiet band of blue, neither ocean nor air,  just a moment of grace, a thin breath of calm before the unknown expands again.

This is the edge of becoming. This is where the light breaks.