The natural light pouring through the north-facing industrial windows of Julian Cole's West Loop studio was cold, silvery, and unsparing. It illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air, the heavy iron gears of an antique printing press, and the raw brick walls covered in black-and-white contact sheets. Chloe sat on the edge of a distressed leather armchair, reviewing the final exhibition sequence for *The Geography of Solitude*. She held…
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