Art Diary: Week Ending 19th July

This is last week’s art diary, posted rather late I am afraid.  Because of pressure of work there are no photographs although these will be added separately a.s.a.p..

 

 

13/07/2014

Most of this Sunday was spent outside; either on a reluctant shopping expedition (my wife and I are taking it in turns doing this as one of us has to be home to keep an eye on the dog) or gardening – with the cricket commentary on the radio probably annoying the neighbours!

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14/07/2014

I have returned to conventional painting again – although not in my studio as I had to work in the living room looking after the the dog when my wife went out. I stopped when she returned and went back to digital art. Hopefully I will actually be in my studio tomorrow.

I am adding simple symbol sequences to the small FRAGMENTS FROM LIFE paintings I started earlier in the year – in now seems like an age ago.

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15/07/2014

I still haven’t got into my studio but I have continued with easel painting: as yesterday adding symbols to the linear strands in the FRAGMENTS FROM LIFE paintings. I am working on several at the same time but actually finishing one a day – in most cases the symbols and shapes will need painting in.

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16/07/2014

Practically no creative work done at all today as I had to rush the dog to the vets on several occasions, necessitating four separate taxi rides (money!) as she had a too tight bandage on the leg she was operated on and then she had a too loose bandage and then some of her stitches came out…..!

A miniscule amount of digital art on the computer.

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17/07/2014

I was out in the morning and then painted and drew on my tablets in the afternoon (my wife went out and I had to keep an eye on the dog – with staples replacing stitches! – in the living room).

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18/07/2014

I actually worked in my studio today! Like earlier in the week I added symbols to the FRAGMENTS FROM LIFE PAINTINGS; I have finished this stage on six of the twelve works.

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19/07/2014

No oil painting today and I spent much of my time drawing/painting on one or other of my tablets while watching the dog – who slept most of the time!

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Weekly Diary

13/07/2014

I imagined the house as a crouching hunter being stalked by its prey as I went out astride a shopping list; eventually coming home as a shoal of shopping pursued by sharks. The afternoon was spent in a sherbet dip of sunshine with voices emanating from large stones cast down by the fleeing giants of a very strange man’s imagination (some say they are only half the size they used to be but I believe they are actually much larger). I knew it was time to come in when the invisible cat started to lick up the heat like milk: June was half woman and half soft drinks when my shadow strung a rope bridge between two very tall mountains. An old friend who calls himself Japanese Knotweed spoke in rhizomes as the fisherman allowed himself to get caught by the fish.

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14/07/2014

I held onto the gantry as the rocket under my feet slowly ascended into space – incidentally the space was shaped like a kitchen sink and all matter was washing up. I called my thoughts flowers and picked the brightest ones to put in a bouquet to give to June; in return she gave me a hat from which a spider monkey hand emerged – it shook the cushion shaped like a koala bear but refused to shake my own hand which was curled up by the fireplace with the dog. Outside the stomata window the green landscape breathed, to me looking like restless legs under a duvet. The Play-Doh dog jumped onto the sofa using Pegasus wings while I listened to the vernacular speech of cricket commentary emanating from an over ripe plum and June went to town carrying a pack horse.

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15/07/2014

I got out of the thermionic valve bed inside the transistor radio bedroom too early – I felt sure I had seen sounds all night but later assumed it was the cries of a person trapped in backward moving time. I noticed that the spectral figure that emerges from the laundry basket when a car snakes its way down the road had made a cross on the dressing gown universe: there are two hanging from the door which leads to the deep vacuum of the bathroom - I always wear the pink one. I went down stairs immediately after a procession of weasels and stoats, touching the plimsoll line of the hallway as the house tilted so the old man made entirely from unwanted clothes could turn it into an observatory and watch the stars – even though it was daylight and clouds were hanging still in the sky.

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16/07/2014

I had planned to paint like a sun lounger on a hot verandah all day – my ears had been growing to spaniel length in anticipation. However I found myself wearing a B movie face and leading a wagon train across the Wild East instead. Poppy had a balloon foot and was hovering under the ceiling before we went out. We got back with the hand shaking bandage of an Egyptian mummy and I then went to town with a bag of severed limbs and a shuck of corn. On my return Poppy and I had to go out again, office staplers hanging from our ears and a small piece of sea mist wrapped in a paper towel in my back pocket. We came back sitting on tea trays: mine had a map of the Isle of Wight with tourist attractions clearing demarcated and hers had the lines of a runway unearthed in the ruins of Pompeii.

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17/07/2014

I got up as early as a false dawn, going up the hill cross legged on a flying tea towel as June pushed tasting fingers into pastry. I caught the bus at the place where I had seen myself in different lights and then stopped off at an urban woodland to take photographs with my bare hand and then the sole of my flip-flop. I carried on with my journey, watching people made from electricity light up and then grow dark again before meeting the solar king in the grandiloquent shade of his bungalow. I came home with a typewriter T-shirt, allowing glove puppets to write words and watching closet vultures climb the ventriloquist dummy air currents. June wanted to go out before the Venusian weather took hold so when I got in we touched rather than talked.

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18/07/2014

I walked down the pimple lit corridor, carefully modelled on the hind leg of a long horned grasshopper, carrying what I thought was an anthropomorphic representation of the day to come – the day then insisted on getting down and walked off using the sprue from a plastic kit as a walking stick (the kit looked like a Douglas Dauntless from the Battle of Midway although I may rebuild into a half man half bird figure at prayer in a deep blue light). After a junior member of the flying crane clan had been and gone June went out dressed in souvenir tea towels and I watched over the dog like Argus in designer shades. I thought I felt the presence of a model who had appeared in an early issue of Vogue but when I looked round saw only the curtains playing strip poker in front of the naked window.

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19/07/2014

I went to town wearing donkey ears as I couldn’t find my sun hat (June jokingly said it was in the pocket of my rain coat). A compass made intersecting circles on my back as raindrops as big as buses lined up to drink by the river’s edge. I decided not to stay to count hands with combine harvesters for thumbs or feet with writhing snakes for toes; coming home instead by the shortest route – where I saw Royalists from the English Civil War shuffle down the same path as me – luckily they didn’t see me wearing my Oliver Cromwell T-shirt. By the time I had got home June had closed the door on the windmill people and was cutting shapes out of the mnemonic cloth of the day. Strangely the day stayed dry and in the test match of my mind a new batsman came to the crease.

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A Much Earlier Weekly Diary

13/07/2007

I walked the walls of a medieval city wearing a hat that came down to my knees. As the day progressed I spoke to statues while my wife struggled through tunnels of cloth. We came back riding bareback on metal maggots – hers was called Achilles and mine was called Hector.

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14/07/2007

I came out of the sad mists of time to take the jester’s road to town. An assemblage of total strangers cut the day into manageable slices as “Pixie-head” (my name not hers) hovered at least six inches above the ground. I was just about to proclaim the apotheosis of time when a coconut fell on my own head.

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15/07/2007

I emerged from the bowels of the bedroom later than planned (some time in the 25th Century). During the main part of the day I had to struggle with alligators while rain clouds dressed as morris men danced overhead. In the middle of the last act a previously unknown character entered holding a wrist watch.

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16/07/2007

A long day which was stretched like sellotape across brown paper – the chorus line had to tear the tape from their mouths before they could sing their well known songs. I pulled a thought bubble from the top of my head and kneaded it into a rough map of the Isle of Wight.

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17/07/2007

I fluttered my wings early while hanging in a clear plastic bag from the bedroom ceiling. I then returned to writing secret messages on the back of postage stamps – which came as some relief. Later, I walked at least half a mile with an old fashioned galvanised bath hanging like the Sword of Damocles over the top of my head. It was only when I touched the door handle that it inverted.

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18/07/2007

When I looked in the mirror to comb my hair I was mildly surprised to see three of me, one of which being only four feet high. I thought it was a shame there wasn’t two of my small self as they would have made a nice cruet set. I shook the mechanical spiders off the top of my head and the mirror transformed into the image of a hero of D-Day.

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19/07/2007

I opened the curtains at ten to eight, just in time to see Diomedes throw his spear at Ares, I closed them again and waited for the petals to fall. I worked in my rabbit cage all day, clothed as it was in coloured silks and buzzing with the remembered voices of my past. I professed my love as the day sailed away.

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Art Diary: Week Ending 12th July

 

06/07/2014

I had a stream of pet related odd jobs to do today, then a few moments painting on the computer and then my wife and I went out for a family meal. A miniscule amount of further digital painting and blogging done in the late evening.

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07/07/2014

Not a brilliant day! For a variety of reasons. I didn’t do a great deal of creative work either although I did manage to work on the computers for some time. Actually looking back I did actually do quite a bit of work; most of which I am not particularly happy with.

History Painting

History Painting

The Desert Island (Hidden Self Portrait)

The Desert Island (Hidden Self Portrait)

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08/07/2014

Out and about a lot today. When I was not out I was painting and drawing on the computers.Our dog’s aspirate needle test came back negative but the vet still wants to remove the lump (I’m not totally sure why) so she is scheduled for surgery for Friday.

Cloud Study

Cloud Study

The Moment One Thought Became Many

The Moment One Thought Became Many

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09/07/2014

A late start but I spent much of the day writing and painting on the computers (although there was a bit of belatedly watering plants). Next week I am going back into my studio; initially to finish off some works I had started earlier in the year – much earlier in the year! – and then to start some new sets of work (including local landscapes and a new series of Ionist drawings).

Two Birds

Two Birds

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10/07/2014

I was out much of the day; working on the computers (writing and painting) the short period when I was actually home.

Sky Mother With Sky Child

Sky Mother With Sky Child

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11/07/2014

Our dog Poppy went in for her operations today so there was not much time to work. Typically I did find time to produce a little art work on the computers. A degree of disillusionment has set in with digital art, although I have much more to learn and will continue with this process. I need to start exploring my painting software (I use MyPaint) rather than the general purpose image manipulating and painting program (Gimp) as a modicum of standardisation has crept in – anyway, all being well, I am back in my studio next week.

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12/07/2014

A lot of dog nursing and little work. Much of what I did do was done on my larger tablet – this was actually the first time I have done much work on it. I have had a Samsung seven inch tablet for a little while (bought with the aim of keeping in my pocket while out and about although I have seldom done this) but the larger one was bought more recently and is decidedly cheap and cheerful – however it has proved to be entirely functional.

 

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Weekly Diary

 

06/07/2014

I stood on the earth holding a gigantic dog which was both the future and the past. The Earth itself was supported by a small elephant standing on a giant tortoise: the tortoise was apparently the fastest animal on the planet (but not on a sister planet in another dimension where the sand dunes were coloured pink and blood rivers travelled uphill defying the laws of gravity). The garden was bereft of corporeal entities although several ghosts tended to plants that were only visible during a full moon. The cockerel asleep in the griffon engine of a Spitfire manufactured too late to take part in the last war sung a song in braille as I climbed the hill to play falling down it again with the children of the frozen forest. I became a sea mist to watch them sing to the multilimbed trees.

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07/07/2014

The saw headed people were nearing planks of wood when I planed myself a breakfast from a Sequoiadendron giganteum growing in a pot by the sink. Incidentally the dog had already told me that the postman was a hammerhead shark and the short lady who occasionally throws a catalogue on the step had sea snakes instead of hair. June went out with her feet encased in granite monoliths – one of which looked like a parrot plucking acorns from its own eyes. The man selling windows of time had said there would be no rain over our earthscraper palaces so I was surprised to find myself racing down the dorsal plates of the urban stegosaurus with an umbrella for my wife. When we got in the little visitor who was with us for mere moments suddenly left.

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08/07/2014

Unusually June was out of bed earlier than me (the bed was a crook in a giant’s arm and the house was a policeman’s helmet knocked off by a spear thrown by a daughter of Boadicea). I bathed in a stream of cold water spurting out of a serpent’s mouth and then dried myself in the down draught from a dragon’s wing. June meanwhile had turned into a stone butterfly and was hoovering her multicoloured chrysalis with a mobile phone. After breakfast in the invisible hanger of a B2 bomber I patted a house plant and then went to town: my shoes were made from liquorice allsorts and my top had a map of the continents in the Paleoproterozoic era. I came home soon after with a superstructure shaped like a cauliflower listening to sounds uttered many millennia ago by our anteater ancestors.

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09/07/2014

I got out of bed like a cowboy falling off his horse, pointing out a daytime constellation to June who was knitting a replica of the Queen Elizabeth from lambs wool. After a breakfast of pink diamonds I had compressed out of pink coal June crept out of the house wearing a wig of endangered coral reef and I spoke to an anthropomorphic road sign who I couldn’t understand as I cannot drive. A shirt which was too large for me to wear was curled up like a cat in the corner of the multidimensional room (cunningly modelled on a furtive smile by Mae West) as I swapped my limbs for telescopic ladders and changed my head into a Royal Doulton teapot (it had a frieze of centaurs holding severed arms and sickles running round it). I quietly climbed up myself.

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10/07/2014

I climbed out of my haversack as early as an air raid siren. I caught a paper dart bus at the place where a skeleton of a steam locomotive had been found and rolled out into the quiet timpani hills of the countryside – stopping off to walk the entire length of a howitzer; which was pointing skywards at the same time as a hand was pointing to the ground. I talked to the belt and braces god (who was wearing several dozen different shirts at the same time) and then came home inside my own haversack – stopping off in a town of flightless birds to buy some roundels for my wings. While June stood like a sentry above the hunchback gates I changed colours to sound and sound to a molten lava that slowly crept down the hillside towards the town.

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11/07/2014

A bugler in a cardboard box announced the dawn as both June and I climbed out of the cockpit of the C47 which had crash landed in the bedroom sometime in the night (it was painted in the black and white stripes of Operation Overlord). I covered my eyes with playing cards as June went to a house made from a spent cartridge (I tended to the tendril people while I waited for her return). A little later I went down the rifled barrel of tank gun myself to collect the Queen of the Amazons and her sphinx quill of arrows. She convalesced in a tree house lent to us by one of the many sons of Tarzan while outside jungle bricks were laid by part men and part bread making machines. I noted the colours of the clouds as they went overhead in a tight bomber formation.

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12/07/2014

June slept on an artificial snakeskin with Poppy – who had a house made from the ghost of Betta Bilda on her leg – while I stayed in the eyrie talking to shooting stars as they crashed to my cartoon Earth. After a conveyor belt breakfast June went out while I stayed home as a two dimensional entity looking after the four dimensional dog – the lady with eight spider legs asked how she was (as did the naked male statue with a door mat as a wig). When June came back covered in chicken feathers instead of clothes I went up the hundred and fifty flights of stairs to my eye of a needle study where I threaded myself though one disparate reality after another: my favourite had a newspaper print sky and dancing legs for trees – the rivers could be read like a recently rediscovered novel by Malcolm Saville.

 

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A Much Earlier Weekly Diary

 

06/07/2007

I hung an exhibition of stains and other dirty marks today; I had to dangle like a gibbon and drink tea (with an infinitely long straw) from an orbiting space station. The rockets fired from my burning hair were piloted by glove puppets that sang ancient ballads when hands were pushed inside.

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07/07/2007

It was a tiring day which I filled like a bag of confetti. For much of the time I was the gecko god firmly attached to the shop wall – my eyes flashing like pound signs. In the evening the “ultra-men” pulled out useless information from a drawer in my side.

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08/07/2007

I went back to the sunshine of my youth for a short while and spent the day how I pleased. Juno, my wife, was out in the morning holding a giant mouth apart as I jostled with plastic ornaments and pulled rope ladders out of wellington boots. She came in at noon with another person’s tonsils in a jar.

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09/07/2007

My wife and I had planned an expedition to a lost continent but ended up staying in our lost home. I washed the long strands of wild animal hair that randomly covered the lush vegetation of the imaginary garden. My clone, who is married to somebody else, scrubbed acres of flesh to remove the thorns.

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10/07/2007

My shadow and I went out to watch the sea draw lines on the sloping front. I pretended not to notice the thousands of strangely staring eyes protruding from the crumbling masonry. It was only when they blinked that we both thought of food, unfortunately the tide was out and we couldn’t find any.

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11/07/2007

After a brief trip to town to buy pebbles for our long pockets, June and I went out for a picnic. Poppy pulled a chariot full of archers round the perimeter of the Roman amphitheatre as I scrambled out of a rabbit hole and went to search for Goliath – I finally found him in David’s pocket.

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12/07/2007

I went out in the very early mist to the place where the tall masts of ships would rise above it. I discovered mathematical equations while gardening in the rain. Once home I drew the short straw and went out for a long walk.

 

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Weekly Diary

 

29/06/2014

A sun cat curled up on a mill stone cushion as I entered a magically clothed garden (which wasn’t mine) as a replacement tree. I cast some shade and then returned to the serpent tail in mouth reality of my own existence (spitting out some recently shed scales as I did so). June worked in a space created on a whim for Marie Antoinette and I worked out the back with tendrils for hair: they steadfastly refused to attach themselves to the canes I had earlier blinded the ground with. I waved to a lady from farther down the street who had a derelict house in her hair – she was amazed I had known the original occupant. She told me the swine were wearing the pearls that were cast before them and I watched a small caterpillar climb to the top of a young shoot before falling off and starting all over again.

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30/06/2014

June and I walked to the Mary Magdalene town with Poppy (who was rehearsing for a part in a mystery play). As an experiment I played a mandolin with a violin bow while waiting for a lady with a Spanish castle for a dress to walk her flamenco path towards us; she showed us some new chords and then patted the dog. We came home holding separate shards of glass: behind mine a flying saucer landed and a group of druids walked out; one of whom had been to the same school as me – we hid inside trees when the lessons were lined up like recently executed criminals. June and I stayed inside the Mary of Magdala house the rest of the day. She had laid the chairs so we could sit on the table – giant mouths watched and giant eyes swore.

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01/07/2014

June and I left the house as shorthand messages; I couldn’t actually read myself until I got home again (June claimed to have worked out some bits of her message while waiting for her coffee cup to arrive – she had to wait a little longer for the actual coffee). I came home early to work like a trouser belt round a fat waist (perhaps I should mention that the nurse said I needed to put on weight even when I was carrying three bags of shopping when I stepped on the scales). June had visited both the dog faced man and the cat faced lady before returning home. I had to remove the William Tell arrows from her shopping bag and then put a small working model of Mount Vesuvius in the freezer. She sat down with a hand that had accidentally come off when she was shaking it.

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02/07/2014

June and I followed a green gold vein to the duck egg blue town. She and I had matching curtains as we looked in and out of the window respectively. Outside the arena where I battled with the behemoths of my imagination the landscape thought by itself: wondering why it was there and how it came to be and how it will end. A paper cutout version looked at the rain clouds form over the green blue ocean while I answered the door to a man who had a television for a tie; I watched him wrap one image round another and make a neat knot – even though I was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt (we couldn’t come to any agreement and he left with a thunder storm in one shoe and a lightning strike in the other – I was barefoot as usual) .

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03/07/2014

I got up very early dressed like a super hero who was trying to protect his identity; no one guessed when I boarded the bus – setting down the bull elephant that been sleeping in my haversack and the blue whale swimming in my hip flask. I met the bearded god in a razor shaped room and we compared hats: mine had a poem going round the brim and his had a row of expensive fountain pens – not all of which had been filled with ink. I came home again as a meteor, becoming a meteorite earlier than planned and worked in a chimney of an empty factory the rest of the day, smoking out ideas. The North American buffalo, who I had meant to ring but forgot, came to the door with the remains of William Cody. He licked a stamp for me which a clockwork ballerina then stuck on an envelope.

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04/07/2014

June and I woke up early in a tunnel under the alps; she climbed up and I climbed down. Poppy was rejected by the animal hospital brass band despite being proficient on the trumpet and tuba and we walked her home via the woods by the railway line. Being a puppet master in other peoples dreams I watched as the small figures in the wood strung flags across the top most branches and the small puddle people attached messages to buoys bobbing on the water like a universal heartbeat. Once home I found a wrought iron reproduction of a sugar cube to work in (getting sweeter as I did so). All the skyscrapers in my head had eagles on top. Downstairs a door was knocked; when opened all that was present was a person’s name.

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05/07/2014

June went to town, the sails from an old schooner attached to each shoulder, while I followed later, smoke belching from the rusting chimney on the top of my head. We met again at the sprawling recreation ground; she was embracing a bridge laying tank and I was holding a small bag of sand – which I squeezed into the shape of a pipe smoking an old man (the old man, in a previous existence taught me to play solitaire). I came home holding a raven in one hand and a princess tiara in the other; unfortunately I had to put the raven on my head as the tiara was too small to fit. When June had returned, with a monocycle tyre as a necklace I dug a hole in the living room carpet and planted a pebble in it (one of six in my cricket umpire’s pocket). I hope to find a mountain in the morning.

 

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