Dita
The sweet song of summer still dancing in the breeze. The delicate palm trees along the coast, swaying in perfect rhythm. Dita’s sensual shape and earth-toned hues recall the cherished memories of warmer days.

Dita

 
Ralph Waldo Emerson —
I gazed out into the sea, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of you, far in the distance. The gentle warmth of the setting sun caressing my skin. The closing song of summer carried by the breeze. The image of your face forever etched into my mind. Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.
 
Louise Bourgeois —
“I am not what I am, I am what I do with my hands...”
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