It's noticeable already that the days are getting longer. That surely has to be a good thing.
My mind hasn't brightened a great deal though. Today I attempted to read Wilfred Sellars' paper on the manifest and scientific images and my brain went on strike.
I started painting a chicken. Not very good at all. But at least I got the brushes out for the first time in months.
A manager at work said I can have a letter that says I have to do my work in the studios, which makes me feel less anxious about being stopped by police and encouraged me to book the hotel room.
Outside today men were relaying the tarmac in the road. It was moderately noisy but I decided to meditate. I was lying on the floor when they started using the packer, the thing that hammers down the tarmac. Like an industrial and huge mechanical hammer. Anyway, it was an interesting feeling - lying there as the earth shuddered. And then I wondered if I was feeling the banging for real - I mean, like a baby earthquake - or feeling the sound waves, like an elephant. Why not? Bass booms, doesn't it?
So I was massaged, as it were, by sound.
Oh so short today. My inspiration has been drained, I fear.
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