Work, work, work. Commissions, no time to draw my thoughts. The election is coming up. An endlessly growing, never ending, cacophonous pinky grey mush of noise, but, no one is saying much and my children and I discuss the fact we have no idea who to vote for. That's an interesting admission, for a family that prides itself on thinking and questioning. Why is it we can't work our way through the mush to the 7th May? Why? An interesting question.
“The canary bird in the coal mine theory of the arts: artists should be treasured as alarm systems.”
My blog, a thought or two