The sea is the canvas. The torso man is a white spot. The woman with the sunglasses and the enigmatic smile, the time. The needles of the horizon obey a certain order and a warning to the seagulls: do not rest here, or you will prick the feathers.
The sea is the canvas. The torso man is a white spot. The woman with the sunglasses and the enigmatic smile, the time. The needles of the horizon obey a certain order and a warning to the seagulls: do not rest here, or you will prick the feathers.
