I have a suspicion that my life is about to fill up with life - the non-creative sort. I can feel someone prodding me, looking at me triumphantly and saying 'see, I told you, you should have made better artistic use of your time while you had oodles to spare, instead of thinking vaguely about what you might like to do if you could be bothered to shift'. And whoever that someone is, they're spot on. I have a thousand thousand ideas waiting around, not entirely worked out, but vaguely sketched in, happy to stay in that half-formed state possibly forever. I'm very good at lists, however, and can fill volumes with all the things I need to get done and how important it is to get on with them. Not too handy at the getting on, though, so not a lot happens. Sigh. Still, no point in going on about it - that is, as any fule kno, just another way of not doing anything. Perhaps another list or two instead?
Meanwhile, next up is the Bath Society of Artists' annual exhibition, and if I can arrange to get there I shall submit work I already have ready (which is something at least). After that there's the 2016 Neo:printprize, which I've been considering and for which I do at last have an idea - it's probably aiming too high, and time to produce something might not present itself, but if it does I promise myself that I'll grab at it and make proper use of it. No really, I promise.
I make prints and book arts, though nowhere near as often as I'd like - no good reason, just an inability to get on with things. I occasionally go on about landscape (with which I am mildly obsessed) and various of its elements, and I like to pass comment on exhibitions I visit.