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In the weeks since my last blog I feel as if I have been emotionally thrown backwards and forwards like a ball on a parcel shelf in car that continuously takes corners too fast. I have managed to complete a couple of paintings for my next show, accepted a couple that I would have worked on more had circumstances been different and I’ve started to explore new ideas through drawings.

At the moment life is dominated by caring for my father. The structure of day and night unravels as quickly as I try and plan things, lists get left undone and replaced by bizarre conversations that take in the past, the hallucinated and the misunderstood. Under the influence of Dad’s medication and his cancer, his thoughts and ideas come out undeveloped or strangely deformed. My time is not my own and my head space has had its boundaries dissolved.

Dad’s health and and state of mind go up and down, but the trend is always downwards. His mood is both impetuous and unpredictable, but in trying to bring peace to an unsettled mind, I find there are only threads holding my own thoughts together.