I can’t show you much from today aside from the ticket stub from the exhibition. Everything that mattered took place in the real world, without a trace remaining except the ones that will stay in my memory. The show specifically focused on works in which Van Gogh played extensively with depth of field and perspective; they made me smile and think and grieve a little. It was a good last date, or at least the last date for now, while we go back to this bizarre purgatory of work and waiting and separation. At least now we do it with the shimmering, scintillating brush strokes in our mind’s eyes.