My Diary

I got up as a plastic kit (I think USS Kitty Hawk around the time of the Vietnam war) and had to tear myself off the sprue before sitting like a knitted top in my shop window studio. I stayed there for some time, carefully painting muddy footprints on a Stradivarius violin and then had a dinner of orphaned canal boat flowers before settling down again in a dug out log. Apparently by then I had morphed into a Jack Russel dog but didn’t realise it until I bit the postman. June came home later encased in contradictory thoughts like a parasitic wasp inside a cabbage white caterpillar. In the evening we had to go to the outskirts of lunar town with the sole occupant of a cage protected by rainbow packaging – we came home with Iris and her box of dreams.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s