The Heart’s Own Design: A Story in Gold The air in the workshop was thick with the scent of freshly brewed tea and the faint, almost metallic whisper of gold dust settling. Outside, the London rain was doing its usual dance, pattering against the large windows, but inside, it was all warmth and focus. I was sitting there, sketchbook open, a half-eaten biscuit forgotten beside me, lost in thought, tracing circles, trying to capture that feeling, that deep, unbreakable bond between a mother and her children. It’s a feeling that resonates so deeply, a kind of radiant warmth that truly needs to be...
