Lid tipped, contents spilled in disarray. So much is scattered, shattered, and cannot be put to rights. But there is a light that plays on these broken pieces of pottery and torn fragments of canvas. The light moves and shadows leap up like flames and shimmer among the ruins. It also changes colour as it dances, weaving a spell all the more captivating for the desolation it acts upon. Each new shape: a beautiful accident.

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