The Other Life

• 35X45cm, acrylic on board
  

I always imagined I’d be a writer. One of those quiet types with a view like this, a chipped mug, a half-filled notebook, and time.

But somewhere along the way, the writing turned into colour, the paragraphs into shapes, and the silence of the page became the stillness of paint.

This one’s for the version of me who still thinks he might write a novel one day.