Between the two gray towers, sometimes the tired sunlight reaches out and paints the shadows of my neighbours tree onto the back wall of Sanctuary, my home. Perhaps this universe planned the exhibition eons ago. Pulling strings of gravity to rein a young sun, smudging off a monsoon or two into a wild breeze and blowing into perfection the tail of a comet. All to render the hues, the shades and forms, with some meaning beyond my comprehension but pretty enough to catch my eye.