In My Eyes, the world looks different after surviving the tectonic shifts of life. In the gentle, golden light of France, I found a new way to see. Tenderness is now my greatest strength. This vision is more than just a feeling. It is a profound internal architecture for my resilient soul. Every soft glance helps me process the erosion of my past. As a sensitive spirit, I cherish this female strength. I find deep beauty in the Malachite peace of my current home. Understanding what lives in my eyes helps me connect with the world again. My truth now lives in this quiet, loving perspective. We move from the hardness of pain to the softness of grace. Within these tender intervals, the spirit finally finds its rhythm.

In My Eyes, Magma Star

U mojim očima


Nježnost u mojim očima
nije slabost —
to je mjesto gdje svijet omekša
kad ga pogledam.
Sanjarenje u meni
nije bijeg,
nego skica stvarnosti
koju tek trebam naslikati.
Toplina mog govora
nije slučajna —
to su riječi koje su prošle
kroz srce prije nego su izašle.
Dok radim,
ponekad zaboravim na vrijeme.
Kao da me neka tiha sila vodi,
kao da sam i ja
dio nečega većeg od sebe.
I kada završim djelo,
ne slavim glasno.
Samo osjetim onu tihu sreću
što sam iz ničega
stvorila nešto
što diše.

Dans mes yeux


La tendresse dans mes yeux
n’est pas une faiblesse —
c’est l’endroit où le monde s’adoucit
quand je le regarde.
La rêverie en moi
n’est pas une fuite,
mais une esquisse de la réalité
que je dois encore peindre.
La chaleur de ma parole
n’est pas un hasard —
ce sont des mots qui sont passés
par le cœur avant de sortir.
Quand je travaille,
parfois j’oublie le temps.
Comme si une force silencieuse me guidait,
comme si j’étais moi aussi
une partie de quelque chose de plus grand que moi.
Et quand je termine l’œuvre,
je ne célèbre pas bruyamment.
Je ressens seulement ce bonheur silencieux
d’avoir créé à partir de rien
quelque chose
qui respire.

In My Eyes


The tenderness in my eyes
is not weakness —
it is the place where the world softens
when I look at it.
The daydreaming in me
is not an escape,
but a sketch of reality
that I have yet to paint.
The warmth of my speech
is not accidental —
these are words that passed
through the heart before coming out.
While I work,
sometimes I forget about time.
As if some silent force guides me,
as if I too am
part of something bigger than myself.
And when I finish the work,
I don’t celebrate loudly.
I just feel that quiet happiness
that out of nothing
I created something
that breathes.
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