“I stood on the beach. The evening was — the Goa evening, the particular hour when the sun hit the sea at the angle that turned the water from blue to gold and the sky from blue to the colour that I had spent my life trying to paint and that I called, in my private vocabulary, "the colour of the thing before it changes." Every sunset was the thing before it changed — from day to night, from light to dark, from the visible world to the invisible one. And the colour of that transition was not a colour but a feeling: the feeling of standing at the edge of something and not knowing whether the next step was forward or down.”