Sunday cafe stories

The walk creates a thought, of photographs, I’m not sure why but photographic print could just, I mean its black, it’s grey in tone, that’s how I see it as of now, and last nite, I saw forms, tiny forms extending themselves

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Many of them spreading…
And cows falling off… Cows everywhere..

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One thinks about time, of exercises, of conversations, of insertions, of placing, objects,

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