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ArtistThere are two of us in the room: my dog and me. A terrible, violent storm is howling outside. The dog sits in front of me and looks straight into my eyes. And I look back into its eyes, too. It's like it wants to tell me something. It's mute, it's speechless, it doesn't understand itself - but I understand it. I realize that in this moment, the same feeling lives in it and in me, that there is no difference between us. We are identical; the same tremulous light burns and glows in each of us. Death will swoop down and flap upon it with his cold, broad wing... And that will be the end! Who then will know which light was burning in each of us?