this will take a long time to load up.
think of it as walking through a gallery.
imagine your glass of warm cheap wine. the sweat under your jumper. the hooray north oxford wife-swapping types with cash. the snidey critics. the billowing woman with the uncomfortably loud mundane monologue. your old tutor the one who told you couldn't paint for shit. the pristine white walls. the young dot com couple worrying about whether it will clash with the carpet. the discreet cocktail drum and bass noise...
thom.
17th july2000.
