About the design
on December 27, 2007
When we were kids, we used to have a lot of birds as pet and I remembered how my little niece loved and took care of them dearly.
A catastrophe in the house is when a bird dies/flees it's cage for it will send the halls to a hysterical chorus once my niece would learn about the lost. Thus the myth about a young teenage angel releasing the birds to it's freedom in the middle of the night was formed. It is the only bullshit story told by my aunt that would pacify the outrage of the little thing.
She's 15 now. We spent the holiday reunion talking about our childhood nostalgia. Pretty magical.