adi_of_your_valley

Ello, my lilies ^^ 
          	
          	Recently, I made the decision to unpublish four of my works, leaving only one story still resting here—still breathing. It wasn’t an easy choice, but it was a necessary one. There’s something stirring in my mind lately, something that asks for space to bloom. And to give it the care it deserves, I needed to clear the garden a little—make room for new roots to take hold.
          	
          	As for the works I’ve tucked away—they are not gone. Only resting. They’ll return when they’re ready, when I can hold them again with the attention and tenderness they deserve. Sometimes, stories need to breathe outside the light for a while.
          	
          	I may seem quiet, but I’m far from empty. My mind’s still busy, words still piling up. The stories haven’t stopped—they’re just growing quietly, waiting.
          	
          	Thank you, as always, for your patience, your presence, your quiet belief in what I create. It means more than I can ever say. This valley is not empty—it is simply waiting for the next season to begin. 
          	
          	Until then,
          	Bloom gently.
          	With warmth and love,
          	Adi

adi_of_your_valley

Ello, my lilies ^^ 
          
          Recently, I made the decision to unpublish four of my works, leaving only one story still resting here—still breathing. It wasn’t an easy choice, but it was a necessary one. There’s something stirring in my mind lately, something that asks for space to bloom. And to give it the care it deserves, I needed to clear the garden a little—make room for new roots to take hold.
          
          As for the works I’ve tucked away—they are not gone. Only resting. They’ll return when they’re ready, when I can hold them again with the attention and tenderness they deserve. Sometimes, stories need to breathe outside the light for a while.
          
          I may seem quiet, but I’m far from empty. My mind’s still busy, words still piling up. The stories haven’t stopped—they’re just growing quietly, waiting.
          
          Thank you, as always, for your patience, your presence, your quiet belief in what I create. It means more than I can ever say. This valley is not empty—it is simply waiting for the next season to begin. 
          
          Until then,
          Bloom gently.
          With warmth and love,
          Adi

adi_of_your_valley

Once upon a quiet evening, as I lingered in thought, I crafted a name for this little corner of mine—this space where stories breathe and hearts find echoes. I had first imagined myself as lili_of_your_valley—a gentle homage to my love for water lilies and lily of the valleys There’s something in their stillness, in the way they float with grace atop the waters, that fills me with quiet joy. These tiny bell-shaped blossoms, so delicate yet fragrant, bloom low to the earth, often unnoticed. Their delicate beauty has always spoken to me—whispering peace, resilience, and the kind of happiness that doesn’t shout, but lingers. 
          
          The “Lili” in the name was my own creation—a small twist, made simply because it pleased me. I shaped it that way for no grand reason, only for the quiet joy of making something feel uniquely mine.
          
          But names, like people, sometimes evolve. And so, I’ve chosen to become adi_of_your_valley. A softer reflection of my own name—more rooted, more me. The valley remains, as it always will, for this is where I write, where I feel most alive, and where I meet all of you.
          
          From here on, I’ll be calling my dear readers Lilies—not just for the name’s origin, but for what you’ve come to mean to me. Like lilies in the wild, you bring light to my stories. You bloom in the margins of every page, in every quiet chapter, in every kind comment left behind. You make this journey radiant.
          
          So, to all my Lilies—thank you for growing here with me. For blooming beside my words. This valley wouldn’t be the same without you.
          
          With warmth and love, 
          Adi