It's 5 past 4 and it's dark. Dark and wet and cold. I like it. Very few things give me as much pleasure as weather-inspired houseboundery. The trick is to embrace the gloom and make your choice - stuff global warming and switch on every light in the house, or go the Jane Austen route and light candles, moving them with you as you walk from room to room.
Obviously, this is all very well if you have the choice. I watched the new BBC Sunday drama 'Cranford' and they sat in the evenings with 2 candles, 1 of which was left unlit to save on the use of wick. No wonder things moved apace on the invention of electricity. The population was in bed, bored stiff by 4.30pm on a winter's night. I bet that wore out the bed springs. What else would there have been to do? No Nintendo brain training or bad books to read. Oh, no. Just cold darkness and possibly a similarly freezing cold body next to you.
I went to college today and did some more silk painting. It's a very relaxing occupation but I can't make it look how I want it to look. It's too twee and dainty for my liking and whatever subject or pattern you use everything looks as if it should be in one of those shops that stink of patchouli and sell felted purple boottees. All a bit Glastonbury in my opinion.
I tried though - I managed an acid shaded target and attempted to quilt another design. It's quite good for my map/landmark project but I think it needs to be worked over using some other media. Get me, I sound like an art student.
I do feel, however, that all this visual art is distracting me from what little writing I ever did. It's time to rationalise. I have been warned astrologically twice this weekend. Something must be done.