As I settle back into my routine in cold, wet, grey Istanbul, I am finding it harder and harder to believe that I have now been to Toulouse twice, and all for an exhibition that I was a part of. It feels like two blinks ago that I received the email asking if Pedro and I would be interested in showing our work at the Centre Culturel Bellegarde. We then drove across Anatolia with pencils in hand, I went into a mad frenzy of stippling, and then we were on a plane with a red bag of sketchbooks and a tube of four ink portraits. Surreal.
Now that the exhibition is over, and before the details of both trips blur too much into memory, I would like to take you back to Toulouse, back to a November that smelled of dried leaves. Back before the city's streets were flooded with over 80,000 people marching in solidarity against terrorism.
So let's go.