Why are you here? What are you doing? Who are you? Some paint sketches: I have been having recurring dreams for the past year of the people that have lived in my apartment before me. Weekly, often daily. This isn’t a ghost story, I don’t think the majority of these people are dead, they just left things behind. I wake up and I am in their space but also mine; just different, previous. What I call home reimagined, and no longer belonging to me. When they first began I didn’t think much of it , just visitors from strangers in another context. But as I’m preparing to move out I have spent more time with these memories. P.S. of all of these dreams; the one part that stays the same is Ms. Girl. She is always with me, trailing at my feet whether I go in life or in dream.