Young and beautiful, the Princess of Anxiety journeys like a flower blown by the wind, gently merging with the Garden of Fluidity—an unfamiliar sensation, battling the restlessness of her soul. It felt like being pulled by gravity, a heavy sensation finding beauty through light. One tear dropped, and her entire world shifted, releasing the pain she had been absorbing from her environment. A tear from the sweat of her brain’s constant churn—a haunting power of sensitivity, an ability to crash and blend with the emotional climate around her. That tear, a fluid of blurred vision, flowed through her eyes, unraveling the world, turning it into a journey through wrapping liquid motion.

She found rest and beauty in her stroboscopic imagination, choreographing motion and expanding an enlightened world—the Garden of Fluidity. Once a parched oasis, it needed nourishment, a rebirth, a change. The Princess and the Garden fell into one another’s arms, unaware of the other’s presence, but both sensing the new growth, activating motion and inertia—a dance between movement and stillness. A harmonious relationship was born, and from this, Violin emerged—through choreographed love, challenging boundaries between what seemed irreconcilable. A union of differences, creating an angelic world.

Repetition became unification, dancing through her tears. The Princess of Anxiety’s world blurred, and in that blur, she found rest in buoyancy. She created a new vision, a wrapped world, shaped by her new ability to define her environment. It could be said that she lost herself, but in truth, she found peace.

And as the Garden bloomed again, it became alive. The once-stagnant world transformed, every element personified, changing its meaning with every step she took. The garden, just like the Princess, began to bloom anew, with the fluidity and motion that reflected her own journey—a garden made not of soil, but of sensation, both real and imagined, a world of change.

Violin mists emotions through motion. She is the heir to the soul of the Garden of Fluidity — a being born from the union of the garden itself and the teardrop of the Princess of Anxiety. Their love bloomed in the heart of winter when the princess, through her sorrow, made the garden blossom. In this act, she found her confidence and began her journey toward self-understanding.

Violin exists in the in-between — a pulse of sensation and perception, constantly absorbing the world around her. She is both present and invisible, felt through the tickle she leaves on others yet unseen in her beauty. Her physical form is but a shadow, curvilinear and fluid, never grounding itself. Her back holds the history of these encounters, marked by the flow of journeys, memories, and sensations etched like wind patterns in the soil.

Her humanity is both her strength and her curse. It gives her the power to feel and communicate emotions beyond the veil of fluidity. Yet, it also traps her in the endless motion of existence, where she has no time to experience herself. For brief moments, her human nature flickers — a second of longing to step outside time and reflect. Only by grounding herself and journeying inward can she unlock her full potential, understanding who she is beyond others. Like her mother, she yearns to embark on her own path.

She breathes life into the garden, leaving traces of her mother’s love. The garden thrives on the emotions she feels, alive because of her — yet it holds her captive in its fear of losing its colors and light. But beauty is never absent; it is merely hidden when the light bends in another direction. Trapped in the cycles of motion and change, she must learn that beauty is not lost but continually reshaped through transformation.