Joya - Radio

It's as if space has decided to remember warmth. Everything floats - sounds, breath, the boundaries between dreams and reality. Somewhere among the stars, a man sits on a mushroom, watching a flower bloom, and suddenly recognizes in it an old friend - not from memory, but from that childhood world where miracles require no proof.

The music seems to melt in the sun: slow, viscous, almost imperceptible, but at the same time filling everything around with a strange tenderness. It is not the heat from which one hides, but the one in which one can dissolve completely - simply allowing oneself not to rush anywhere and to feel life awakening inside again.