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And out of the image came light. You asked me to write with more light, but here I have to remind you that photography is exactly that. Anyway, the journey is always forward movement, energy always transferred. I don’t fret, even when I can’t stop thinking. Along the Basque coastline, or any coastline for that fact, we’ll find answers nestled in rockpools. Ours is the story of the shipping forecast.

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A fugue. A history of movement. A history of history. A contrapuntal story of leaving you, only to dream of returning. A dream in which an elephant became taxidermy. A room in which the elephant became me.