I imagined the bedroom curtains as hands holding tightly to each other and then abruptly opened them. June and I both got up as rough wood from a sandpaper bed: she walked to town pulling coffee cups behind her and I took the tea cup trail to my studio. In here ships hit lighthouses and holes fall down self obsessed people. I worked in the guise of a young man thinking of old friends - one stuck permanently at the end of a diving springboard and another who had managed to jump. Painting a supernatural still life I answered the door as a super man in a natural world. The familiar stranger talked too quickly (his words were reduced to abacus beads and I able to calculate my answer as studiously as an ancient mariner calculating the amount of water before and after his boat).