I'm honing my skills in the art of procrastination. I'm sitting in the studio, eating Lucky Charms, watching Six Feet Under and completely ignoring the blank canvas that sits in the other room. Prepped and all ready to go. A perfect white rectangle to ruin.

If anyone reading me, knew me...they'd know this is par the course. I have a 'freak out' then things have a way of working out themselves.

Oh, I always get a little teary eyed at this scene in the last season of Six Feet Under. Darn Nate. Ok, passed.

Anyhow, my internet connection is tenuous. It's seeping through the walls and floors of the sports lounge to the right of my studio. Swollen Members played the Townehouse last night, from what I could hear (everything, perfectly) it sounded like a good show. I was wrapped up deep in the sea foam coloured sheets bought at a discount outlet. Sleeping in my own bed for the first time in....months. Good bed, that.

Buckley doesn't care too much for the studio. He hears the others moving in the building, the trains across the street freak him out and he can't find Marble anywhere. But we're going back to the Island tomorrow. He'll be pleased.

And I must to my painting. It's just that time, I suppose.


Lose You - Pete Yorn