[The last statement sounds latched on. Like she’s trying to defend why her thoughts don’t run deep enough, as if he possesses some looming expectation from those he questions, forever disappointed if they don’t spit out a ten page dissertation.

Sometimes it’s as simple as “I like the colors”, or “I wish I could be there in person”. Markus has viewed plenty of those himself, a few digitally portrayed here in this very gallery, bright swaths of fantastical nature that vitalizes imagination and unearths inspiration. He doesn’t need a complicated answer, he just wants an answer — and he finds it strange that there’s the crease of uncertainty across her brow when she hands it to him.]

That’s all right. [—he says, easily, meaning it. He leans incrementally in her direction, still looking at the piece, as if sharing with her some deep secret.] Let me tell you why I think it’s ominous; the colors are too dark, and the sea looks like it’d swallow me whole.

[Lips quirk upward, blink and you’ll miss it.]

Doesn’t always have to be mind-blowing commentary.