A singular experience. Prose, art, poetry come together in a way that is elusive until it becomes a self fulfilling prophesy surrounding the heart of grief. I took quite a few pictures of some of the most beautiful prose I’ve read followed by opaque art; something I’ve always found hard to intercept. And even as I got to the ending, and I wondered what ending could be appropriate, it offers not even a subjective conclusion. Also thematically appropriate, I thought.