There’s such a difference between hope and expectation. At first I believed it was a question of duration, that hope was awaiting something further away. I was wrong. Expectation belongs to the body, whereas hope belongs to the soul. That’s the difference. The two converse and excite or console each other but the dream of each one is different. I’ve learnt something more. The expectation of a body can last as long as any hope. Like mine expecting yours.
[ID: Five oil paintings of bathroom sinks from various angles, painted in a detailed style with highly saturated colors. The first painting shows a white porcelain utility sink with a tall, arched faucet. A bottle of pink soap rests by the faucet and is reflected in its chrome surface, and the white subway tiles of the wall are rendered in shades of cyan and pastel pink.
The second painting shows a bathroom sink with a smaller faucet in front of a mirror. A bottle of clear soap rests on the edge, and a person’s face is reflected in the chrome faucet.
The third painting shows a sink with a lush house plant resting in it. A second plant waits on the counter nearby. Water cups and toothbrushes sit in the corner.
The fourth painting shows a bathroom sink with pink hand soap and a scrub brush.
In the fifth painting, a person with yellow-painted fingernails is running a paintbrush under the tap. Hot pink paint is splattered around the drain and covers a palette knife sitting on the rim of the sink. A glass mason jar full of more brushes sits on the other rim. End ID]
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