I end up at the studios playing about with last weeks painting of the railway bridge. It wasn't much to write home about anyway, so it won't be a problem if I mess it up. I try a different way of achieving a similar effect on the edges that involves layers of paint and then drawing into the paint with the pencil. It sort of works and it sort of doesn't, but I like the feel of the pencil lines better - they become more integral to the painting. I also break up the words I wrote on it last week and scatter them about the picture. Hmm.
Later and I get inspired by a yellow line and a bunch of fag ends (fag ends to come). I keep going until it gets too dark. Ray's grinding a bit of stone down by the garages, annoying the neighbours. A horse goes past on the main road. The fire alarm goes off (I'm already outside, so I can just keep painting). I make a note of the noises, as I might write the sound effects on later.
I'm walking to the studios and I know it's not going to go to plan when walking under a tree laden with berries, one of them gets caught by a gust of wind and falls on me. It finds the slightest of openings around my collar and it's straight down the shirt. Oh yes - now that is a sign. Doomed I say, DOOOOMED. After putting everything down and untucking and jiggling (next to the busy road) out pops the berry and I move on.
Aha, there it is, just ahead - the sainsbury's petrol station sign. Just as I left it last week. Now we're talking. (Exciting compositions - that's what we're talking.)
I set up across the way so I can see the sign across the busy (busiest in bath, according to an in depth study conducted by me just now) junction. There's a little patch of grass covered in leaves, which I try to avoid as you can bet your bottom there's a pooh lurking under there somewhere.
So there I am, all set up, looking to paint the sainsbury's petrol station sign, when whammo, the curse of the berry strikes and my paint medium disappears. Totally disappeared as if I forgot to put it in the easel, which is inconceivable. Damn that berry.
Ignominiously I pack everything up and slink off to the studios. The petrol station sign will have to wait for another week. (I'm pretty sure it's waited its whole life to be painted, so what's another week?)
Back at the studio, I did mean to put in the fag ends, but the lines take longer than I thought they would. Lines, Ben? What lines? Well, these lines of course ...
P.S. The left handed line drawings still aren't showing much sign of improvement. Damn, but I'm looking miserable.