Panic receeding

I did phone Ian about communication , and i misquoted him , ( i  never quote people literally , and anyway i rarely understand properly as i 'm  quickly off on how its affecting me ) in this instance i felt even more child like in my total disagreement with him -  i remember a passionate argument with my mother when i was about five,  that my monkey jacko was real , alive -  what i understood is him saying you cannot communicate with inanimate objects . As thats mostly what i do,  pursue , paint , i'm feeling pushed and  excited about exploring that more , in an unscientific way  - from the inside .......... for me there's no such thing as an inanimate object .
         Mrs brown listening
    

Panic

Fiona sent out a 'flyer' about my show with one of my big marsh mud  paintings , and words by jonny , got from my web site . I didn't realize she was in that sort of role with me , and i was  in deep panic , i did cooking to keep me ordinary and wonder at my turmoil . I phoned F up and asked her who she was , i mean in relation to me , she said just someone who admires my work  , very generous , though i'm still thrown .
     Reading  Animal magic , by Andrew Barrow is saving me from being too serious  , but also my sense of reality is a little weird , i feel a bit of a dog , half  a  knitted doll and back to child memories  - such as believing  - in a way  - hens can talk .
      Yesterday our vicar visited me  - I'm not a church goer  , and i like him , i told him i was starting a blog , he said how boring , i replied i wanted to communicate . He -  I an said thats not communicating , and we had a long argument about communing and communication , and it felt very important , but somehow dotty too which has helped me forget the point so i shall phone him and get a solid understanding .... soon .

Mrs brown

mrs brown , listening.

Our hen mrs brown , attracts a lot of attention , so i thought it would be  helpful to begin under her wing .
 Today she received a letter from our friend Andrew, with a photo of her driving a car , but even odder an invitation to join his mens only club. . I dont know how to reply for her - I've been out to see her and she was making a loud cluckcluckclucking aaaaaah clucluck , because she had laid a particularly large brown egg ,






 I don't think she's a clubby type , and a mens club?  and  anyway she's a women  -  hen   Actually i didn't even ask her , which might disappoint Andrew, so perhaps i better at least inform mrs B, she can get agitated if i don't include her .
 When i first got her from a battery 'farm' she quickly found a little nesting place , in the hen house ,where she sat  - refusing to roost - her legs weren't strong .  She decided that the whole little  house was hers and wouldn't let the others in - i listened to the thumps and squawks as she shoved them out . It was very moving seeing her first walks across the grass ,and blinking in the real air, and light. I left my studio door open , and she came to visit me sometimes , i usually had music playing , but one day i played Faures requiem , and she was entranced and stayed with me listening . I thought she would come into my paintings , but she hasnt yet . Neddy my dog has , he's always on the edge of my vision .Putting dogs in paintings though is a dicey business .

    I returned to my ditch today , to see it in a new season , when i last painted it , there was a poppy flowering . Today chilly and grey yellow , i was reignited by the  extraordinary  stones wedged in its side - next to , it felt  the  angels vast thigh  -  i feel doomed but excited  to go on with all of that . How - oils, water-colours ,there  on the spot , or here with memories i haven't  yet worked out .
      Good though, i've begun .