"he often used to say that the only time he felt like himself was when he was painting. everything else, life, reality, that was just an act. only art was real for him. and when he met you... well, he saw himself. i hadn't seen him draw skulls for several years before i saw that wall in the alley. he told me at the hospital that he loved your cockroaches. he said he'd never seen anyone paint insects so beautifully."
"then what happened?"
"i stayed with him for a few weeks, then they turned into months, and then he got sick, so..."
"so you never went back home?"
"he was my home."
"maybe joar was bigger in the painting because that's how you saw him. fish felt big to me, even though i was much taller. people think it's bad if someone makes you feel smal, but it really isn't."