Many years ago I found a small diary
on the pavement. It was full of notes, drawings, doodles, phone numbers and
codes. The owner had filled the box for each day and when space ran out he continued
sideways down the edge of the page into any available space. I was impressed.
Nobody I know keeps a thorough diary, especially men.
I've done a few handwritten diaries and they make
for interesting reading after 10+ years. Nowadays I just keep a summary diary
which keeps me organised. I give each day a mark out of a ten. They usually get
a 6 or 7 as my mind is quite static without steep drops or sharp upswings (there
aren't any "1"s or "10"s.) Every night I read in bed and
after turning out the lamp I lie on my back and rake through the ashes of the
day to pick out enlightening or funny bits. I award the day a number out of ten
before falling asleep.
I thought I'd do
a quick pit-stop painting in acrylics to represent the above. I did it between
oil paintings, something to keep the blood warm. The shades you can see are the
foams and fizzes and swells and bells of a day - hopes, daydreams, hopes, gossip,
stresses, stuff I've heard, read, earned and learned. Lying in bed I push the
embers of the day around and sometimes unearth a tiny goblet of gold. That day
might get a 9. There's some golden nuggets in this painting so this would be an
Here it is, done
quickly with a knife. You could hang this over your fire and on cold days throw
it onto the fire. For £448 I can post this off to you tomorrow morning after my