"Tell me what is the color of love?
What do you see?
Is it warm is it tender when you think of me
I see the color of love when I'm thinking of you
As a picture perfect painting of love forever true"
Strange how things always gain in importance only in the afterlife. The memories make events great. They are the fertilizer that makes them grow. The encounter with Adele the fascinating great artist, the random shoot: A large painting on the ground, lots of paint and naked bodies. Some snow and how random a camera that takes pictures. Little light but a lot of energy and the will to do what should have been done for a long time.
And then the night in a dirty hotel full of noise, and some memories - alone. (bk)