These last few days have sapped my energy so I’ve been reading. The Twelve Rooms of the Nile by Enid Shomer is an entertaining story; the tale is an imaginary encounter between the repressed English Florence Nightingale and the French louche Gustave Flaubert as they travelled down the Nile in 1850. The heat of the day gave the narrative an extra dimension as I languished in a darkened room, something Florence remarked on doing in her letters home. There is another book on the same subject Winter on the Nile by Anthony Sattin so that’s on my reading list.
Since finishing for the summer and, apart from the days when it’s been too hot to move, I’ve been busy. Painting has occupied much of my time but of the decorating sort. I’m moving my workroom from the front to the back of the house with the hope I’ll use it more as I’ve done very little art recently apart from several ‘crafty’ pieces. I need to engage with my practice as I feel I’m loosing my identity as an artist. The creative pipeline has several projects in it but seems to be blocked by my inability to make decisions.