Everything is hard work today. Just as well I’m not working. I slept the first half of the morning, cooked scrambled egg and then slept until mid afternoon. All I had to do is assess if I had the stamina to get my ass over the river to The Affordable Art Fair. It’s in Battersea Park and my nephew is director.
At about 4pm I decided I was just about human enough to go and look at things. I texted Shama to let her know and got a saucepan out. I’ve got this “Ceremonial Grade” Cacao. “It’s just hot chocolate,” said Jack, but I’m happy to buy into the idea it isn’t. I mindfully scraped bits off and made them hot with some chili and some cinnamon. Then I put my contact lenses in which proves that I literally will never learn. And then I wept as I stirred it all up with milky stuff and fed it to myself and Frank.
Tears are close right now with the early darkness. And add to that the fact I’m bone weary. Whatever my body is fighting, it is winning as can be evidenced by the rivers of snot. But my ability and my desire to be upright and mobile is stifled in the restorative sensations brought about by the absence of striving.
Frank had an audition today and now he has the familiar tenderness. We are our own worst critic and we can attach things to these meetings. I left him to go look at the art.
Medusa caught my fancy, but is it an energy you want in your home? She has strange beauty.
I prefer the fair to last year. There’s a lot more I like in my price range. It feels very positive and alive there as a place to buy art and talk about things. I wish I was not feeling so absolutely useless. All my muscles ache. My brain is full of soot.
So I’ve put myself into electric blanketland, and there’s a glass of water beside me and I did the awful tooth thing and now I can sleep and repair until Boy wakes me up at dawn. zzz
AlBarclay 