My Diary: Knocking On Our Front Door And Letting Myself In

June went out early to pull green gloves off green hands,‭ ‬leaving me to pad about my creative cage like a tiger in a milk bottle‭ (‬as usual the dog had already pinched the cream‭)‬.‭ ‬Even though my hands had changed to paper aeroplanes I drew pictures all day‭; ‬they evolved before my eyes,‭ ‬eventually growing propellors and rudimentary engines.‭ ‬As the afternoon progressed I thought of my studio as a forest with my art as signatures on tree trunks although when I looked again later some of the names had been crossed out.‭ ‬June came back as a bass line,‭ ‬had a drink and then went out playing lead‭ ‬-‭ ‬I drew a face on the drums kit,‭ ‬first glum and then happier.‭ ‬At the end of the afternoon the audience had arrived and we all waited as one for the saxophone solo.


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