1955 Summer
Golden days that never fade,
warm wind carrying secrets down the road.
We were infinite beneath that endless sky,
hearts wide open, time standing still.
Radio songs and bare feet on hot earth,
laughter spilling into the summer air.
That was 1955 the last summer we felt truly free,
a season we still carry in our bones.
- Art TechniqueDigital painting with heavy texturing + cinematic color grading