Up from the grave He arose.
That song of calvary is stuck in my head. I am beginning to understand the reality of life amongst ongoing renovation. Whoa la, respect. I have been painting various parts of my imediate environment Cloud White. Clothes are coming tomorrow, bits and bobs are here waiting. The blank white is so incredible I am tempted to let the walls speak for themselves, unadorned.
Today I unwrapped my Omega B22 enlarger that is just a swinging door away from my bed. All parts in fine form. The studio has taken a shape. Nothing beats a studio put together. Things in their place.
Is a good one.
While I am taking my sweet time adjusting to the switch, so far so good. January is zipping on through. Dragon year woohoooo! I rode a large tricyle through aisles upon aisles of bicycle parts this evening. It was thrilling, a true thrill to find grace around those corners standing up in painting clothes in child's play.
Steve, I don't know if you read this but I made your simple sauce today, slow and low. With miniscule vegetables to boot. Not as good as yours but good enough to remind me of you. Simon, I will miss the ease of walking to your bed when my eyes fail me and all I have is my feet. I miss you both so dearly.
Glass was smashed for waste and process in between the trip through the aisles, shopping for new drop bars with my eyes. Steel all the way.
This is an exciting time in life. Piecing the darkroom together bolt by bolt was exciting. It won't be long. Just a few more things to paint white.