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In an act of quiet desperation, she had perpetrated a perfect copy of Organised Line to Yellow, on which she had pasted,  here and there, extracts from the more savage evaluations of Sam Atyeo’s painting.  She propped her canvas on a table draped in canary-yellow nylon, and laud on this altar an array of factory-fresh yellow offerings: a China rose, a plastic banana, a string of wooden beads, a rubber duck.  Filching from Degas, she called it What a Horrible Thing Is This Yellow.

(Michelle de Kretser, Questions of Travel, 1)

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