A drastic relocation has taken place. I've moved to the town of Bath in Somerset. It is from here that I'll now be working.
I took my boat from London's Regent's Canal all the way to the West Country, via the River Thames and the Kennet & Avon Canal. There was one week of rapturous sunshine, then about two more of what has by August sadly become the status-quo: misery. Whilst tillering dutifully at high speeds of 3-5mph (though don't tell ANYONE about that last digit or I'm in BIG trouble) and shielding my eyes from the inexorable misery that was creeping around the lining of my raincoat my mind turned to the devotees of the British 'Staycation' and the gaudy servants who fête them. For the minions of the holiday camp I felt their pain. My summer holiday in the rain only lasted less than two weeks, and had purpose, even obligation, at the end of it.
One day short of arriving in Bath my brother and I stopped in Bradford-on-Avon to eat and play cards. The rain was so heavy as we sat in the cafe. I looked across at the matte, pock-scarred canal and saw an alternative reflection: the bulbous, sodden clouds stretched out ceaselessly over the Minehead in my mind. An Endless Summer.
Bath is a UNESCO World heritage site largely because its was planned out in circles and crescents and is uniformly beige (not figuratively but literally - although I do have an inkling it might be both). I'll be set up with a studio some time next week.