I have been immersed in my dissertation for my Visual Art degree for the last few months. Actually it would be more accurate to say I have been struggling in it like a drowning person struggles to get to land, hanging onto every piece of distracting flotsam and jetsam I can find. My cartoon output has gone through the roof, my blog posts have become regular (on other blogs anyway) for the first time ever. I have run a half marathon. Been a part of three exhibitions. Built a bird table. Anything but writing about art. I like to joke that if I had been asked to produce a book of cartoons I would have ended up with a closely typed, excellently cited tome of unsurpassed academia-ness (is that a word?). But time is getting short and I am finally getting stuck in. Unfortunately I have to look at a lot of pictures. Like Yves Klein jumping from a building. And then my head takes off again…

Every day I cycle to the factory.
Push. Push. Push.
Every day, I cycle home.
Push. Push. Push.
Béatrice pounds the grey dough.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Complains of her knees.
Curses her bowels.
Her cousin:
Louise. Louise.Louise
On your bike she said.Louise.
On your bike and go.
And I went.
Push. Push. Push.
Down grey streets.
…push. Push. Push.
Down. Down.Down…
…push. Push. Push.
Klein takes flight.
Into the blue.
The world changes.
The man on the bike unseeing
as he pedals slowly home.



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