It's been hiccup after hiccup this week, with psychologists and doctors and crutches and pain killers. There's no place like home though, where the homemade spaghetti is in abundance and my art supplies are at my disposal again. It's good therapy, the best I would argue.
I dragged out a coffee table destined to rot under the house and sanded her back. I pulled out my almost-dead pyro machine and got to work. It's rough and rustic, partly because the machine is on its way out and partly because I was too immersed in The Block to focus on much else (oh god, it's such trash but I'm totally into it). I'm hoping to wood burn the entire table in a mandala and with my pencils, subtly working in some colour before I lacquer it. Here's hoping the machine doesn't die before then!
Really looking forward to using these days of rest to write and make and eat again.