At 51

Oil on canvas

40 by 51 cms

It is windy, rainy and very cold. The dirties are once again piling up, and my bedroom is a mess. My uncle died last night; after hearing the news I had a strange dream about burning the remains of my old horse. There is a leak in my garage and a splinter in my ring finger. And yet here I am, with time and energy to spare, ready to paint.