Lisbon pt.1

Lisbon hit me like a frequency I didn't know I'd been missing. There's something about that city — the light, the tile, the radio spilling out of open windows playing songs that should be thirty years old but somehow feel brand new. This is Lisbon pt.1, and it starts right there: with warmth so dense it glows, a heart that burns from red down through orange into pure yellow heat, like afternoon sun trapped in paint. The word below it came naturally — tagged, loud, unashamed, the way feeling something real tends to be. Graffiti as declaration. The eighties never left Lisbon, and honestly, good. There's a generosity to that city that gets under your skin. I wanted to capture the thing it gives you without even trying.