“What happens when two suns are fighting for space, and their rays of light intersect?” she asked casually, her phone lit up with a studio image of Twin Suns as the four of us stood together outside STABLE. I scribbled the quote down hurriedly, my mind reeling with a spaghetti string of metaphysical and metaphorical afterthoughts ... Only later did I understand Anderson is a body intellectual. It was exactly a week later, and I was sitting on my awful OfficeWorks chair in my pajamas, staring once again at the digital image of Twin Suns. Drawing on some kind of cellular memory bank, I suddenly embodied one of Anderson’s sunbathers, my tanned body in perfect parallel with the sky. Feet firmly rooted in sand or the banks of a boggy reservoir, I imagined sunrays flooding my cone receptors, eyelashes still so saturated with swim water that refractive globules enacted a private vision of two suns colliding before my eyes. Disoriented, in my mind I blinked, water running down my temples." - Read the full accompanying essay by Alice Rezende here.