I stayed over because of the cat. He’s not mine, but I care for him over the winter while his owner’s away. Six toes on each foot. Patti says that makes him magic.
He’d been locked in the basement for four days until yesterday when I got the store owner to let me go down and call for him – out he came from one of a thousand dusty corners, thin, wide-eyed and exhausted. He’d been looking for freedom, but found dust-dark-no-water instead. Clingy now, but it’s good to see him.
Studio is not the best for sleeping but it’s wonderful to wake up in on a spring morning. Three large third-storey windows face full east, and the sun spills in like honey. Starlings hang out on the wires and chatter endlessly – Knuckles is mesmerised.
I leave for Toronto soon – visits with dear ones, airport trip and some hunting of insights, input. Back home tonight, back here tomorrow morning, to record music-for-film, work on a painting commission and a Study in Blue, and share in the Joy of Knuckles as Paul and Toulouse return to his building.
It will still be humming. This is the best studio ever.