So, I ask myself, what have you been doing these last few months in your lockdown tower?
The answer struggles to come forward, a deep grey blur holds itself over my mind like winter morning fog. Perhaps I was just switched off for the past few months, like a robot, and am only now being switched on again, my circuits slowly getting back into function.
Then from within the fog breaks through the memory of baking cake, making animations, and creating a sculpture of the inside of my brain for my friend Nic.
The cake tasted nice, the animation was and is obsessive, the brain sculpture unfinished, it sits and stairs at me from the corner of the room, thinking.
I am now a very big creature with semi-transparent skin and round fish like eyes.
Where did I get the ingredients from for baking cake from when I haven’t left the tower?
Ah yes, I remember, the rats that the cat kills for me.
(Its hard to tell myself from the cat and perhaps we are becoming one beast.)
The dust in the corners tastes like flour
(or at least what I remember of it)
Sweetened up with delicious aphid poo from the lime tree that grows just outside my window.
All brewed up in my cauldron to create a delicious cake.
Would you like me to post you some?
And of course helped down with a large glass of whiskey.
Photo be the imaginary Lord Martland.