WFH: DAY 13. 8.15 am: A communion. 8.45 am: The university continues to mull over imponderables. As in every other sector of society, a return to normality appears to recede ever more into a distant grey haze. There is no future other than what we hope for. Of course, this has always been the case. Only now, we believe it. Yesterday’s burden lightened for part of the day; the clouds would gather again mid afternoon. Today was dedicated to PhD tutorials and teaching admin. I began with postgraduate admissions and student inquiries.

Bronglais Hospital is visible from my study window. The external aspect is the same as it ever was. Internally, the reality is now very different:

11.00 am: The first tutorial of the day. 12.00 pm: The second tutorial of the day:

The tutorials have, now, a different complexion. Beyond a discussion of research and study, we engage in chit-chat about the crisis that’s taking place beyond our ‘cell’ walls, and the practical and psychological impact that its having within them. We’ve an obligation to be, at the very least, aware of one another’s well-being. If the study and practice of art doesn’t encourage us to be more humane, then what use are they?

1.30 pm: I prepared the turntable in readiness for recording later in the evening:

2.00 pm: The third tutorial of the day. 3.30 pm: The final tutorial of the day. Messaging offers a much more reflective experience of communicating on-line. Each participant can hone their respective response as they chew over the last text they’d received. And then there’s the slow anticipation — in the period of lag — as they wait for what will be said next.

Some reflections, in conversation:

The studio is a kind of womb. / A painting embodies both time and what took place during it.  / [Of time] Throughout this crisis, we seem to be valuing it far more. / You’ve always seemed to be pretty focused. The question was … on what? / In the end, you’ll write about what was important [about your work] … not necessarily all that could have been said.  / Writing will be a kind of stocktaking: like reading old diaries. Some things that were foggy will appear, with hindsight, to be clear. / Some things that you thought were central, will appear marginal. /

4.30 pm: A constitutional. How we all must miss the School of Art. It’s less a department and more a second home for many of us:

7.30 pm: On with teaching admin. (In the background: Peter Gabriel’s Humdrum from Peter Gabriel (1977).):

Out of woman come the man
Spend the rest of his life gettin’ back where he can
As a bow, so a dove
As below, so above
From the black hole
Come the tadpole
With the dark soul
In coal she burn, she burn