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Unless the boy king’s back in town, there’s room in my galleries for those who know what they’re looking at. We’re trained to scan the floor for anyone at risk of mischief. I’m in the modern rooms most days; the playful, the subversive pieces gather here. Read the rest of this entry »
Children may dream, but they don’t dream as we do. They live in the angled brightness we only escape to in sleep. When they say: I had a dream, they might mean: Mommie told me. Read the rest of this entry »