Friday night

Sitting in a north London lounge room eating a burger and listening to some of the highlights of Tricky's jazz collection. Stan Getz makes me want to dust off my saxophone and just play.

The Heath

I fell asleep on the grass this afternoon and woke up with a jolt from one of those dreams where you are stepping into a new space and then the floor suddenly gives way beneath you. I jumped back as quick as a cat.

I've been woken up by nightmares the last few nights. 

I've dreamt about going back to my old house. It's night time and my friends are all having a party. We are not meant to be there. But everyone is having a good time. I distract myself with a few drinks and kiss someone I hardly know. A moment of comfort. I'm shaken out of it as I become anxious that we all need to leave. I see what has changed in the house; the things that are no longer there and the building that is being constructed outside.  I plead with everybody that we need to leave as soon as possible and pretend we haven't been there. I'm standing out in the backyard, lit by one little light bulb, waiting for everyone. My kiss tries to tell me everything's fine. He asks for my number but I'm too distracted by the situation. I see two strangers walk in through the back door with knives. I wake up in a sweat.

It's strange how a dream can shape your day. I kept getting lost today (on trains, in the heath) and I just felt like I was carrying around a chest full of anxiety.

It was a picturesque afternoon though. 

I made myself read one of my new books to the end. It's good when a book can take you out of yourself and draw you into another wotld.

Spark!

Drawing + Library

= A nice place to browse

https://drawingroom.org.uk/study

Grovelands

I bought a hairbrush.

New hobbies include brushing my hair and willing it to grow longer.

Things I have on me

Dug my hand into the depths of my pocket on my first walk around Hoxton. I don't remember where I picked these up from (camping in the bush?) but I remember examining the pattern and feeling like I had to save them.

I pulled this thumb tack out of my shoe at the Tate after hearing a tapping sound on my step. I don't know where it came from or how long it was in there. I added it to my pocket. 

I couldn't resist

Agnes Martin

I try to draw a perfect circle.
Were these circles drawn by hand?
What was the order of the shapes?
I try to draw a perfect circle.

Such straight lines.
The closest observation does not find fault,
It finds beautiful imperfections,
Diluted paint grazes the underside of a straight line.

The border of the rectangle inhales,
So slightly.
I can see the action of the hand,
There is breath in the human line.

I try to count,
Multiply straight away,
To find out how many pieces there are.
Dominoes.

I feel doubt.
Guilt.
Does my mind feels better with lines than with people?
I try to draw a perfect circle.

Repeated hand drawn lines,
Steady the mind.
The hand drawn element is important.
Man made lines don't have the same effect.

I try to draw a perfect circle.

Stitching

Watching a woman crocheting on the tube. She is self-contained; her mind is focused on counting stitches and moving her hands in a calculated pattern. People need to use their hands. I would rather watch this than look at my screen. I am reminded of drawing. I think of my technique like stitching; building up a new surface.

The Summer Exhibition

A Human Document

Holier than thou

After getting these sandals repaired twice, it is time to say goodbye. They had a long stroll through Hyde Park today. May they forever rest in London.

Doppelkatzen

DJ Jerrycat

Goodbye Lawrence St

Ideally.

Together again.

The physicality of drawing

can never be experienced through the format of a blog.

Daughter Buffalo

I have always disliked the morning, it is too responsible a time, with the day-light demanding that it be 'faced' and (usually when I wake for I wake late) with the sun already up and in charge of the world, with little hope of anyone usurping or challenging its authority. A shot of light in the face of a poor waking human being and another slave limps wounded into the light-occupied territory.

Tunic (Song For Karen)

Winter is here...

So come and have some sips of wine on the stairs at Mailbox Art Space 6-8pm tonight.

Wish you were here...

What You Do

You stand differently
You put on more clothes
You find that loose leaf tea takes too long
You talk to the cat
You forget to turn off the radio

Happy browsing

You've got to watch the water.

Cold dark house

Dry your hair before you hand in your Centrelink form

Say hello

to all the people you know

Walking up and down Sydney rd

Watch the water

Watch the water, puss

Mesmerizing, 

those industrial dryers

Cold white room,

I remember facing the wall

Listening to you tap your feet behind me

Tentative silence

Gone bush

Gone beach 

Gone Sweden

Watch the water drop on the table

Videoed moment

Waiting for just the right pang of curiosity

         to look back

I looked back on her yesterday

and couldn't look away

I'm worried I will get lost

But I'm going to breathe as I watch the water

This moment passes

and knocks against those other moments

You've got to watch the water

You look back

On your second past self
Looking back
On your first past self.

Some mulberries would be nice