So I’m up at 7 am on a Sunday morning and painting to the sound of little else but the birds singing.
Two and a half hours in I stop for a bowl of porridge.
It has been a busy week of opticians appointments, work committees and arranging new mortgage deals.
The moments painting have been snatched.
On my way out I peer through windows at rows of printing presses lying unused. I want to skip work and be let loose with those presses.
Saturday comes around, I am peaceful and relaxed and I see my soft blue aura.