No. 191. Colin and Clifford Discuss His Work. He seldom welcomed visitors to his studio, but he always made an exception for the the rare appearance there of two old mendicant, rudely philosophical cronies named Colin and Clifford. He'd met them in art school--so many decades ago!-- and saw them maybe once every five years. The funny thing about them (he actually found it endearing) was that, after he'd made them comfortable and got them coffee, they'd settle down, not to chat with him, but to look at his new work--and talk about it as if he weren't there. "There's a lot of yearning here," said Colin. "Searchlights and hot air balloons," noted Clifford. "Upwardness." "Yes," said Clifford. "You don't think our boy is waxing transcendental in his dotage, do you?" smiled Colin. "It wouldn't be like him," said Clifford. "Still, there's all this striving..." "And buoyancy" added Clifford. "Light-headedness," said Colin, with a smirk. "It's untethered," Clifford decided. "It is that," agreed Colin. "Would you two like more coffee?" he asked them. "We'll get it," grinned Clifford. "Don't get up."