In my old journal I would always start each month with a picture of my desk. This morning, in the dark light of dawn, my desk is waiting. I need to put long hours into finishing this book now, move through to the next one. And then it will be time to tidy my studio and play a little with some of the image sthat begin to crash around inside my mind's eye demanding attention, if they do not wander off to find another artist to make them.
Apart from The House of Golden Dreams there is only one other gallery that carries my work. Reading this blog post by John, at The Imagine Gallery, makes me realise why.
Almost finished The Coral Thief, and today I hope to punctuate my working day by losing myself in the gardens in Paris where a leopard and a polar bear have been taken to the menagerie as wild animals are banned from the streets and the guillotine rules, Lucienne sleeps and Naopleon shares a painted plate decorated with an ibis with a small child called Betsy on St Helena. Mr B's promised history, mystery and the wonders of the natural world and have delivered all and more.
