.... from the old diary...
...of my time down at Primrose....
the sounds of Art Blakey
melodically playing from my ipod...
the squeaking wheels of the ball carts
on the tennis courts at 3.30pm..
the sound of the Mistral fan
moving back + forth
from above Angela's desk...
The tiny jiggling of dog bellsaround little necks
from outside my door as they go
up + down the stairs
from their walks on the park...
kids playing tennis on the courts
as their coaches shout encouraging
words from the other side of the net...
Having a visit from Camille + Laura
on a Tuesday afternoon
so they can have a chat about my work
and their day in kinder garden...
Angela's notes on my desk
after missing each other in the day...
Peoples reactions to the works and the space...
The smell of oil paint as it wafts through the room...
And the hot afternoon sun
as it streams through the glass doors
at 2.30
my favoured time to work....
x
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