Been restoring an old pic dated 1983. It was Ians, I gave it to him; he died under it.
Then it started to grow mould.
Washed, scrubbed, sprayed with vinegar - oil paint is fantastic, lasts forever. Even when it homes monocellular fungi.
Beastly hot (fires locally, three nights of fire fighting) Spent a chunk of today in the bath, reading.
The ink is rather good, slightly viscous and nicely transparent. Gave half to Bieke.
Otherwise, Im dibbling at ongoing things, some of which have been ongoing for a very long time.
Trying to keep travel panic under control. London house still sealed up, not allowed in- getting a sofa hopping agenda organised and worried that I'II fall apart. Or it might all be terrific fun :)
Bieke was kind enough to bring me some walnuts in shells, so Ive been mostly turning them into ink. Quite nice therapy.
Getting worried about the London trip now, the house there is still closed as a dangerous structure and though a friendly artist has offered his spare room I'm concerned that my energy wont hold up to the inevitable rigours.
Dentist this morning, replacing fallen filling. He often clarifies things.
suddenly know where Im going with this which is more than can be said for tonights life drawing, Jen and Karin modelling. 
Taken an age to get this done. The consultant is dictating a letter to my doctor regarding the condition of my heart.
He did this looking straight at me and flickering to the dictating machine, so I have his eyes off in several directions which was the hard bit. He was stone-still except for the eye movements. He always wears a mask. Maybe he has no teeth; a goatee? Much evasion.
Plus this penile handle which he grasps with both hands. Whole experience weird, especially as the assistant who types it up was supposed to do it first thing the next morning and email to my people, and didn't.
Pleased though. That's #8 of the rolling death set.
