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 outstanding day.
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 flugelhorn lesson.