7.00 am: For the first ten minutes of the day I tried to sense the level of my health and well-being. In the best of weather, this is a gruelling day. In the present circumstances, I’d need a strength not of my own to see me through. ‘Move through your commitments, one at a time, and with joy.’ ‘And keep hydrated!’, the voice encouraged, with unusual compassion. 7.45 am: Domestics. 8.00 am: A communion. 8.30 am: Onto the golden path that leads me to the School:
9.00 am: My day for third-year painting tutorials began. My expectation is that, by now, students have a sure sense of the direction in which their work is travelling, as they move towards the final exhibition. I’m persuaded that this is the case. Granted, there’re technical issues related to the execution and presentation to work to be thought through, but the fundamental concepts and modus operandi are in place.
Morning words: Dante / absurdity / flood / text / Dore / torso / ivory black / Malvolio
12.00 pm: A walk to the Old College. (I was holding up.) There are stones in the external walls of the building that have been bored, ploughed, and blasted over many years by a focussed channel of salt air. This comparative ‘nothingness’ has worn away the sand stone by dint of its perseverance. The is what persistence alone can do. Add to it, creative intelligence, vision, and passion, and who knows what could be achieved.
1.00 pm: A PhD Fine Art tutorial over lunch before walking at a pace back to the School to continue with the painting tutorials. I’d one conversation with a student regarding my perception of biblical metaphors in their work. When I was 20 years of age, I made a drawing of a National Grid power sub-station and called it ‘There Was a Great Darkness Over all the Land’.
5.40 pm: Home and, after dinner, an hour on the settee recuperating before the evening shift. 7.30 pm: The weekly round-up of teaching admin and sending out tutorial notifications for the week ahead.