Tiny Watercolour of Cefalu

One week left and as I trip over the 10 by 5 jumble of wires, musical instruments, unassembled bookshelves and printers that’s been my office for two and a half years, I thought I’d scan my thumbnail watercolour of Cefalu, Sicily from July, not least to cheer myself up as I fall face first into paperclips, tea mats, bills, receipts, mouse mats, disused mice, posters never unfurled, ancient warranty documents, instructions for installing long gone printers, two hole punches, two half used blocks of photo quality printer paper, several rubbers, post-it pads, rulers, used guitar strings, a footrest, a full shredder, rejections slips, printed drafts, bookmarks, old watches, spare light bulbs, a compass, both directional and geometrical, pencil sharpeners and those useless empty lever arch files.

I thought I was doing all this in plenty of time, but after two trips to the tip on Monday, a whole day parceling paintings yesterday and now a day attacking the office, it’s looking bad. I mentioned an old mouse. I ditched the Tescos Technika because it weighs half a brick and the clicks are like footpedals on Great Western train toilets. Within a week I had an RSI that felt like a broken shoulder blade and sneezing feels like a rib will fly out.  Of course there is a lot of dust in the air.