You know, I don’t get it. Why would anyone paint a picture of a door, over and over again, like, dozens of times? But it wasn’t the same. Yeah, it was. It was the same subject, but it was different every time. The light was different, her mood was different. She saw something newevery time she painted it. And that’s not psycho to you? /…/ That door was her home and she loved it. To me, that’s about making that feeling last.