I woke up feeling very ill and immediately looked at the excavations on my open and closed hands: apparently nothing of interest was found although blackbirds searched for cuneiform invertebrates and small boys sought their hierophantic pottery shards - I used to have a collection which would make mouths below marble eyes. June took the ship in rough seas route to work while I remained clinging to the rocks. I battled lighthouse storms all day, often scraping paint off the canvas rather than adding it on. When June came home I ate newly emerged magma (strawberry flavoured) and then sat as a photomontage, my multifarious silhouettes skillfully blended with the upholstery. A figure made entirely of sound came in and then went out again leaving behind multiple silences.