Dead crab

The Opal Coast in France has been for a long time a place where I could feel my inspiration flow.

One early morning, when I walked on the beach near Cap Blanc Nez, feeling so at home, I found these remains on a further pristine beach.

When I held what I decided to be my last exposition, the curator asked me for a list, the titles that I had given my work.

I told her I couldn’t, as I had no titles and didn’t want Untitled I, II and so on neither.
“Why?” she asked with her soft and sexy voice.
“A title or description manipulates ones vision. I want people to see my work and their fantasies and imagination should to the rest. Let them travel.”
“Wow,” she answered looking at me with “come to bed with me” eyes.
I didn’t as I was with Princess and this chick was already so pregnant.
I had nothing to add to her story.

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