Fortune cookie wisdom and winsome tear stains

I am so behind with my visual diary. There is a backlog of photographs in an envelope waiting to be incorporated into the next few pages. Gradually I am doing a little (little being the operative word) more freehand pen drawing, but I think joining an art class will help me loosen up and draw bigger and more consciously.

As the diary develops, it's really becoming a record of how I was feeling at the time. I visited the A to Z of the Human Condition exhibition at the Wellcome Collection a couple of months ago. Ever interactive, the Wellcome Collection invited us to take a fortune cookie, but not open it until we had left the exhibition. Well, on the train home I discovered that mine advised "The harder you work, the luckier you will get".

This rings true, but now that it seems we are in the depths of winter I'm finding it somewhat difficult to locate my drive. At this time of year I often just want to burrow down and hibernate. I wonder if I should give a SAD lamp a go?

In spite of this I've just started a very interesting commission which will keep me pretty busy for the next couple of months. That's all I'm prepared to reveal about it for now!

When and if I earn a bit more cash, I shall also be having Treasures For Your Troubles (my first curated zine) printed. I have plans for a second, which the contents of this page from my visual diary are an overture towards. And before you ask, yes, it is based on a true story.

Fortunate Cookie Predicts Pavement Proposal

Sorry about the long hiatus. I spent the weekend visiting the V&A and throwing a Halloween dinner party, and aside from that have been working on this monster of an embroidery:

It's an imagined letter from a Mystic Meg-type to a jaded cynic, informing them that "love lurks for you behind the bushes". Illustrated with a broken fortune cookie and "fortune" as the title of the piece. Like The Beast and Me, the letter mentions Walthamstow in the line "waiting to pounce as you take your beagle for a walk through Walthamstow marshes". The text reads:

Fortunate Cookie Predicts Pavement Proposal

Dearest Realist,

So, you think you have it sussed. Little do you know that love lurks for you behind the bushes, waiting to pounce as you take your beagle for a walk through Walthamstow marshes.

Like a child abductor. Like the lottery roll-over.

Tomorrow a man will propose to you on the highstreet. A down-on-one-knee ambush interceptng your meander to Asdaf or four pints of milk. Will you step over him like dog shit? Or not? (Four pints of milk and a bottle of Brut in your shopping basket.)