A Melancholy Thread

Once I was sat in my car in a supermarket car park with the engine turned off. A middle-aged, plump, soft-faced woman tapped on the window and said something. I didn't catch her words and when she remained there I put the window down. She said, " You look so down I thought I'd check you're okay." I was probably listening to a bit of mournful classical music or concentrating on a radio play.

Others have mentioned my face in repose has a crestfallen air. Perhaps it's because I'm serious, fed up with fripperies and bored by most of life. Perhaps there's something in it as I remember meeting a man who had been getting my newsletters for years saying there was "a melancholy thread" through them.

I never forgot "a melancholy thread" and with a few minutes to spare I thought I'd wreck a canvas with some abstract art. This was done with speed, acrylic paint, a knife and a deft touch. I smeared on the general shape of a man's head in one stroke and decided to pull away. Can you make out the silhouette of his head - surely he has a melancholy air about him?