The timelag is worsening but I might have paid off the sleep deficit by staying in bed until noon and eventually after making some token gestures towards the housework deficit.

I go on safari down my backgarden into the lost jungle of Dollis Hill. There are strange sculptures of a lost civilisation slowly being swamped by burgeoning undergrowth




and eventually I hack my way through to my goal: THE COMPOST HEAPS OF HISTORY.

I turn them over with my trusty garden fork for I am a revolutionary. I fear they are dead but a robin flys down to feast on the bugs that I have exposed whilst preparing for his winter job of posing for christmas cards.

This kind of thing inspires this kind of thing
A ROTTEN POEM

I am the compost
I rot in a heap
I rot when you wake
I rot when you sleep

I have no body
Nor brain instead
I am the living
That lives on the dead

Potato peelings
Garden cuttings and teabags
Or a philosopher’s head
Wrapped up in a sack

It all came from compost
I bring it back

All organic transformed
That’s what I do
I am the compost
Soon you’ll be too

The Sun and Guardian online compared by a Guardian reader.

Originally this posting contained my Bbk assignment "The Sun and Guardian online compared by a Guardian reader", but as the tutors have already had to read that gem once, I'm going to use it to post something about my artworks instead.

I do 2 & 3 dimensional works

ie Sculpture (this is "Kilburn Breakfast"





painting (no idea what this is called)



Drawings (this one has just been entitled "The Poised Digester of Legumery")


And Prints



that is (surprise, surprise) called "Big Squid" and is currently on exhibition in Willesden