January.
Has anyone ever written an ode to January? I suspect not.
Long, dull, dreary.
You can add stressful and hysterical to this year’s January. Around the 2nd I was thinking that I didn’t much like 2024. With just one month’s notice the studio building has had to be vacated. I’m leaving the city and the gang are breaking up, scattered across London.
I anticipate lots of studio visiting and some fond reminiscing about the old days, that is, the last three and a half years.
Marmalade and I are nearly packed, I have a lot of work related belongings, all of which are potentially useful. Some of this useful stuff has not been fully unpacked since the last move and will have to go be useful to someone else, somewhere else, in the near future.
I’ve been looking around the city with the regretful longing of someone leaving the beloved country of their birth to travel to a strange and foreign land, never to return.
I’ll be just a couple of miles up the road.
I won’t see these city bollards everyday though.
Gorjus wanted to know if Marmalade or I knew what their design was based on. No, I didn’t. She insisted that we guess.
Prince Albert’s knob?
Wrong.
It’s modelled on a canon.
Of course it is
fat tart 