Somehow half the year has passed. There is far too much to do and with impeccable timing I have a stinking cold, and am too sick to even go to work, reduced to filling bins with snotty tissues and glaring listlessly at all the things which I could be doing if only breathing wasn’t taking up so much time and effort. In three weeks I will be sitting in a church hall with paintings and prints, on the off-chance that someone wants to buy one. I’m not madly hopeful – how many people, after all, actually buy original art from the people who make it – but still I’m making preparations as best as I can with the time and money at my disposal. Never quite enough of either, it seems…
Mostly painting