A painting hangs on your wall with a hand creeping slowly along
it, red droplets following close behind. The hand comes to an edge,
fingers holding the side of the canvas. A trail of red painted letters
follows: “Don’t forget me...” scrawled beneath, a message to an
onlooker unknown. The canvas has been created ... continue reading

Style   As I walk along Adelaide Street, I must try to imagine that I am a journalist, or perhaps a mere journalism student, who wonders what interesting humans I will meet today. My eyes are suddenly diverted, for splashes of red and black have taken my vision from the wildy haired man mumbling incoherently under... continue reading