"This is too good to be true. This is not really happening, getting such an opportunity after such a long time; hope that I'm not being had, something's askew... do I hear angels singing? Come on."
After experiencing these new feelings of such profound unreality -- instances quite unrelated but within a fortnight -- well, then one had to paint again. Both times, everything went sort of sliding by, taking place on the fictional side of the lens. The world had lost its substance -- and I, obviously, vital parts of the screenplay -- might have to spend the rest of my only life improvising... Anyhow:
This vivid feeling of Not Really Happening and Silver Screen attracts, as we heard before, angels. And there's celluloid film, of course. (The ultimate symbol of Only Make Believe -- sadly but appropriately it is falling into disuse, thus out reality itself). Then what about the couple in the front...?
...They're made out of black and white, clean paper versus its opposite -- an unusual lot of ink with smudgy aquarelle. (It's the perfect way to ruin a painting if you're not careful. And your white shirt too.) Most likely they stand for for longings, perhaps for that magic moment when Impossible meets Possible Anyway... you decide. It takes an angel to sing praise to uncertainty. Let them sing. Let us embrace the feeling that life is greater than we know, more unreal for better and worse.