Someday I'll have to get out my water colours...just for the sheer novelty of it all. Biscuit tins of oil paints hardening in the garage. Hundreds of pencils , pens and ink in the cupboards. Packets of chalk and tubes of glue, sequins and marbles, sable brushes, masking tape, every story I have ever typed, endless cameras dating back to 1974, sketchbooks, glass things, ceramic things. I have finally turned into my mother whom my father affectionately called "squirrel" .
