What a day for going Cass Art shopping and buying yet more things that will probably prove fruitless, for drinking coffee, trying out the new twix bar (like milkyway rolls without the nice bit) and doing the guardian crossword, for getting excitable in hannah hood's and maggie's veritable trove of art books and walking home to peckham laden down with canvasses. It makes up for the interesting men I met last night, one of whom told me I should go to mass more often, the other berating me with stories of his married life and his erectile functioning.
Art wise I am dreaming of clouds and pattern and coloured stickers and silkscreening over etchings. Aquatint and immaculate pencil drawings. I had one of those nights where I couldn't sleep for ideas, that would obviously be the night where I had no pen to hand so they have all disapparated and are floating around my inner creative purgatory like millions of little pixels needing to find each other to seek clarity. I also may do something with pixels. Good work.
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