Landscape 7.11.16 09:59:12 to 09:59:27

Every night the mind of the sun strikes a chasm through the mountains. But a part of us remained out there in the empty halls. And only thought of the lines, of the way they resembled, the way they coloured and charmed and I don’t know what. The view was hopeless. I had fallen out of a spotted sleep and into a deep melancholy and now I drove on through the sorrow of the landscape.