My little baby is three and three quarters, and it’s been a year since an Ebbinghaus. Too long.
She is wild and raging and sweet and gorgeous and too damn smart. Her latest favourite words are irritating and murky.
Her latest great excuse is I can’t wipe my bum because my nostrils aren’t strong enough. Uh huh.
The garden is yielding pumpkins and spinach, but not much else.
The design work is rolling in.
The art gigs are ticking over.
I haven’t been to the studio since January. I have a half-finished painting in there that I am kind of in love with. It would be good to get back.