It escaped at sunrise. A slow, sly shift. Its hunched, heavy folds moving towards an adventure promised by the empty sky. It wanted to rush from one side of the earth to the other, its edges skimming the ground like hot feet on the pavement. It shouted at the sleepyhouses “You are not adults! You are grown kids!” It swam beneath the clouds until the sun sucked the haze through shiny teeth, revealing its treasure. Like the ocean lifts its skirt at low tide. This series of works came from a singular 4 meter painting that was then cut into sections. The ever morphing colour journeys from one end of the canvas to another, unfolding like a story. Now that this story has been broken into parts and will live its lives in seperate homes it will forever be connected to its siblings.