Sense

Here in the lush, sun-dappled yard of my grandpa's house, where ivy clings to the old stone walls and ancient trees stretch their branches wide, I remember racing my cousins to the big oak on lazy summer afternoons, our laughter echoing as we played hide-and-seek until the sky turned golden.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, what’s a talking picture worth?

It's really good to remember those little happiness left behind

You can call me Moein. An art collector, painter and sometimes a photographer 