I have been working on a piece where there are bodies curled on top of one another, embracing the one below. There is a long line of lost faces. A coracle of lost faces; soul spheres travelling from back to belly, and others waiting, hanging in the sky.
Sunday, 17.3.13.
I have been gathering primroses. Yesterday planted asparagus crowns. The earth was wet and heavy.
Later working in my studio. I am inside the yak, mystical creature of mine, one I met once after climbing a ladder inside a smoky lodge, there was a teacher who told me about love.
Inside the yak I raise my palm to salute the Heavens, to bless you sky – you came to cleanse my Heart, to make it pure – and the yak gathers my temples gently, raising my face from the dust.
