Wretched sense of tristesse; took the Co-Mission off to be photographed, leaving a huge hole in the studio and in me, mysteriously. Then sold a painting that I like, ditto. Then a letter from a dying friend. And always the background humm of the homeless and the hungry.
So; to clean the studio, scrape the palette, light candes for the causes I can't help. And maybe a bit of a weep.
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