Memoirs.

“Alone, I watched a red moon rise over the Ocean, eating store bought sandwiches.”

Details, mundanities.

“In the painting that hangs in this room – clouds descend on the crudely drawn sea front, thick like dirty cotton wool, smothering the town. The beach stretches on endlessly. There is no more sea.”

Art criticism.

“Today has been much worse than the last. But that’s ok. We’re peeling back layers, till we get to something. I just need this feeling in my gut to go away, need to stop my heart beating so fast.”

Feeling.

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