been observing recently why certain rhetoric naturally just clicked. why words are so significant to me in the first place. I didn't know. 

it’s interesting during this reflection to see how certain values don’t seem to sit with the conscience the same way. as if subconsciously — almost intentionally — I want to be left out of this idea which celebrates nihilism as a substitute for not at least trying. that perhaps the consequence of confronting madness is the risk of becoming a laughing stock. but at some point a decision had to be made to swallow my feelings and in the process, swallow pride to consider in what context the pursuit of happiness could be a solution to undelude a dream. 

anyways, enough food for thought. my name is Oriana (or Ori if it’s easier) : a visual communicator who wields a mind which cannot seem to hide from itself, while wearing the heart not on a sleeve but on head, shirt and shoulder. how are you?

// contact
   < email: hello@orianaren.info >

   < insta: @orianaren >
   < arena: ori (☺) >

// quick reads
    < The Library of Babel, Jorge Luis Borges >
    < Design as Art, Bruno Munari >
    < Metamorphasis, Franz Kafka >
    < This is Water, David Foster Wallace >
    < Self Respect, Joan Didion >