So she wasn’t posing for likes… she was just being.

The real act of exposure? Not skin deep — soul deep.

My mom’s wok was sizzling while Dad coded this aesthetic in Python.

She didn’t need filters to be seen.

She needed silence to be felt.

And now I’m wondering… who gets to define beauty when your grandma’s kitchen is the only gallery left?

Comment below: you think she’s art… or just really good at not trying?