No walks this week. My stomach is a bit churney after the encounter. In more paranoid moments I thought a grinning face would appear on the pavement if I went outside. Strict dashes to the supermarket in daylight hours are my only exercise.
So for now I have even more free time to research the Butter Mouse. And I still believe he is a benevolent figure.
Was.
Clifton is a nice place. I will trust this is a positive force.
As usual here is the extract explaining this month's creative exercise. This is a weird one, and I have not seen anything like it before in terms of inspiring artistic endeavour. He spends more timing pushing the hidden clues than making a clear brief.
Some photos and my interpretation follows next week.
‘Bore da everyone! You must be sick to death of cards now! But what do they even mean? Can you tell me what a Jack is in the royal spectrum? Do you know what the shape a spade refers to? Who chose the four suits? Have you spotted the hidden eight?
Don't look at me, I don't know!
In good fortune this month you will get a chance to extract revenge on these weekly rectangular menaces.
Draw your cards, and fold them up. Not always in quarter, or half, or some shape you can only find in another world. Get those cards smaller in whatever way you please. All I ask is that you do not rip. Exploring a rip is too dangerous at this stage.
Lay out your cards in a line. They may unfurl, and that is fine. Did you get a six or nine?
Walk round them, duck to the floor. See how the shadows move. Base your artistic work on the shapes and symbols that you discover.
This may sound abstract, but keep looking, keep trying. You've got free will as a guide. Turn those spots on the ten of spades into holes to another dimension.
Push, push, push. I am not looking for thousands of stories about paper trees and henges. Think how the rough sides of those diamonds can be polished. How you can build up steam, or pass the time.
Pwb luc!’
