Who talks in riddles, who talks in reasons?

1. I am supposed to be packing. I have been supposed to be packing all week. I haven't been doing much packing. I've packed the books in the lounge. That's it: I haven't even started on my room yet, let alone the kitchen and bathroom and porch. I'm confident I can do it between now and tomorrow evening, but I do need to sleep tomorrow evening so I'm vaguely alive for the move on Saturday. Which means I'll be missing Night 1 of anarquistador's leaving party, but I'm hoping to catch him at some point between now and him fleeing the country forever, even if it's just to find out where he's passed out on Sunday afternoon and go hug him for a bit.

2. One of the complications with the whole "packing all night and all day tomorrow" plan is that the Foundry called me today asking me to be on their radio show tomorrow lunchtime. It's an informal chat show which I've listened to a few times, and I've said yes, on the understanding that I'm staying up all night packing and may not be a) coherent or b) awake even if I have done enough packing to justify going over there for a couple of hours. Anyway, if any of you want to listen to me ramble about our art tomorrow, you can find the live mp3/realaudio stream here. They have keywords to kickstart discussion each show, and apparently tomorrow's are "Electric, eclectic, eccentric". Anyone got any bright or funny ideas vaguely related to those, let me know and I'll take them with me.

3. The Foundry asked if we could leave the exhibition up until Tuesday 4th, because although the place is closed Mondays apparently they have a private showing and they want our stuff to still be up for that. It's more likely to be a mate of the barman than anything highbrow or exciting, but still, it's nice that they want to show off our art. So I need to go round next Tuesday at midday to take everything down, get the screws out of the walls, etc. I'm hoping Kristen can help me as she's off work next week, but I'm not sure what we're going to do with all the paintings. Would anyone who's buying a piece be able to collect it on Tuesday afternoon or evening? If evening, I can possibly leave things at Denny's (he lives near the Foundry) for a few hours to save transporting them across London to the new house, but I don't want to fill his flat with canvasses all week, so if you can't collect on Tuesday you'll need to visit the new house to pick things up. It's Seaford Road, near Seven Sisters. I guess I'll have to rely on cabs to carry everything back there from the Foundry.

4. I have a box in my room containing approximately 4 000 K~nesis flyers. This is aggravating me, as I could really use that box for packing. What do I DO with these flyers? Ideas so far include papering the new house with them and constructing a new sculptural art piece out of them. However, both of these plans involve carrying them to the new house, which means I don't get to use the box. Hrrrrm. I could litter the city with them, but I'm only leaving the house tomorrow to go and do this radio show. Maybe I'll ask people's opinions on air.

Kristen and I spent Monday, for the most part, making a glorious mess. We covered the entire flat in newspaper, undercoated everything we could find in gesso, got my new acrylics out, and covered ourselves, two sculptures, two canvasses and the kitchen floor in paint. We got high and went adventuring outdoors, searching for foliage and finding secret dens under the trees. We painted upside down, sideways and in at least three dimensions; with sponges, brushes, leaves, twigs, our hands, cocktail sticks, knives, fingertips and the cat.

The Dryad's Dream
Acrylic on canvas, 40" x 32"

This is definitely my favourite of all the collaborative paintings we've done so far, and I like it more than almost all my previous work. It so perfectly sums up the mood of Monday. When we ventured outside to gather leaves, we were planning to stick them to the canvas and paint over them, use them as texture, but we ended up using them to paint with instead.

It was a shared inspiration from start to finish. We had such a clear picture of the woodland in our heads: the yellow leaflight, the spindly purple trees, the forest creature being born radiant in its midst. Or birthing the forest. I think the dryad is Kristen and I, and the sparks of her creating are us, painting, and the forest is our art.

We are both in love with this painting. I'm still not sure how we did it: while we were working on it I think we were sharing the same trance state; or communicating so fluently without words that we didn't need to speak.