Is it really a nine o’clock start if you come out, dump a few things, then go back in to make a cup of tea? Psychologically, I think, it is.
Pod of i observation: This is a bit strange, Yellow Magic Orchestra (from the country Japan), doing an uncanny vocal impersonation of David Sylvian (from the group Japan). The song is called The Cue.
Puerile photo of the day, week, month, year:
In my defence it was a perfectly accidental juxtaposition of a squeeze of Burnt Sienna paint, in a cup of cloudy turps, which happened to be placed on a stool (on which I had childishly scrawled the legend ‘stool’ a few months ago). The whole set up just looked too wrong to keep to myself.
Aaaaaaaaargh! White Spirit fumes headache. Fresh air…
God it still really stinks in here. Its times like this you wish you had some kind of ventilation – a window, an extractor fan, anything to get rid of the heady chemical haze.
I’ve had to put on a mask to stop the fumes getting to me.
The filters have a curious, though not unpleasant, smell, a bit like soup. It has started giving me a headache too. But at least I know I’m not breathing in harmful chemicals that are likely to do very bad things to my insides.
2.40pm: Still working away on that beach and still wearing that mask.
The chemical haze has subsided a bit now. I throw everything I can find at that beach - charcoal, water, chalk dust, paint spatters, more white spirit, more paint, sawdust. Need some sand, but I’m 25 miles from the nearest beach.
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