Giorgio de Chirico, Mystery and Melancholy of a StreetIt is at haunting moments like these, despite people's kindness and efforts, that you realise the impossibility of ever returning to where you have never really belonged. Faces, places, memories have faded or aged; everything seems to have acquired the melancholic hues of a painting by de Chirico. Coloured with the yellows, ochres and greens of childhood, but forever haunted by the intruding shadows. Something you cannot define isn't quite right, and it will never mend. Never.
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