Acrylic on wood, ready to hang.
Signed on the back.
A time traveller at heart, lost in the index of space,
Mediums in hand, we dance on the canvas in a whirl of memories.
Just one last game as age does not weary them,
It was late 1999,
nan says “you have to collect something”,
Leech seed is planted, Solar beam is charging,
Hydro pump is what we need,
But A house of cards is built among a flamethrower,
If only we’d kept them, If only we could go back and save them. Left chasing the eternal chase card, holding on to cardboard, waiting for that last game with nan, like it’s still late 1999.