Blue on Blue

An angry Scottish artist destroys his mural. Tries to pick a fight with me. I tell him I don’t like conflict. He accuses my photography of stealing artists work. I know he just wants a fight. I praise his skill. I stand up to leave. He gives me two paintbrushes with blue paint on. His hands are covered in blue paint. I offer him a piece of paper to wipe his hands on. 
In the flat next door, a violent junky visits while the hard man is out, his weedy brother beaten for a free deal. 
I walk through a factory where women shower in lockers, I shower and change. Dutch people ask me for an alphabetical list of things I need to pack. 


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