It was 24 hours with him. I saw him shake his ass with a friend. Scrubbing tile corners. Have egg salad for lunch. Buy cleaning products. Rehearse in the studio. Playing with children on the grass. In a huge theatre, review texts about scenes of decolonization. Smoke one, or two. Problematizing on the bus. Undressing on the couch in my house. Sleeping without fitting into the bed because you are too tall. I saw the sun bursting on your skin in the morning and said goodbye. I thought a standard session wouldn’t encompass the complexity of an intimate recording. So I was his voyeur for 24 hours. Uninterrupted.