New picture up today (well, it's actually been up for a day or so, but I'm kinda ahead of myself on these blogs) - kind of a (sub)urban landscape with light and shadow. Yes there's movement, yup pretty naturalistic, hint of Turner, check. Altogether I'm pretty pleased with it, not least because it did help clear my head for the oil painting that's been stalking me; but also means the week has been productive, which is useful as I'm quite excited about tomorrow. 

I have a day off, and I'm going to get up early and use it to go to another city and walk and sketch. It will undoubtedly rain, but I will find people and places of interest, and examine them in my little book I carry, before returning to complete the oil. After which my wife will return, so I'll cook something and we'll talk before bed. 

Okay, so it's not earth shattering - no balls of flaming fire; no passing of international secrets; no last minute deals to save the world economy (ahem); just a day with no real direction, a sense of whimsy and freedom, and the potential for the unexpected.

To me there is a sense of the river on a spring day: the current pulls on its own sweet way, and I am swept along with the eddies and ripples on its surface. Like playing 'pooh-sticks' with myself as the stick. 

Days like this only work in relation to the structure and repression of ordinary life; in relation to the discipline of a work ethic, with which you are able to appreciate a sense of the potential of the day. Given freedom like this when you feel worthless, or self critical, the day elongates like an emaciated hand that guides you along it's fingers even as it clutches you in it's fist.

So this is why I'm so pleased to feel the week has been productive - it gives me permission to exploit 'my time' as I want, to roam and explore what the day will bring.  

Fares please.