Day 11: Gone A Bit Quiet Hasn't It?

But that's a good sign...the last few days have been increasingly intense. Each residential cube is provided with a little deck over a shared pond, and I've been spending my working hours drifting between the deck and desk. On the deck a length of grass rope hangs from the rail which I've been laboriously wrapping with the pink nylon marine line (remember the craze for hair-wraps) to make a slightly repellant string that resembles coral, or bronchi of the human lung, if you've seen images of a preserved one. Some kind of basket/sculpture has been shaping up in my subconscious: it's either going to look marine or human; I think perhaps a heart-like structure from which might or might not sit a couple of washed up lighters in strong and mild transparent pinks, like valves. And on the desk the novel is ... metamorphosing, I'm not entirely sure what into, but it's feeling good...

Last night curator and art critic Jan Verwoert gave a talk. My head's still ringing with it all; as ever, I'm afraid to paraphrase. I might try and articulate some of this stuff in a bit.