i can't sleep. i'm too uncomfortable. i really want to paint. the painkillers i've been taking have made me feel as sick as a dog so i can't really do anything. it's so frustrating. i've got so much i want/need to do. the reality being that i can't do anything useful. just have to rest. which i don't like doing at the best of times, but this time there is more pressure to not feel like crap. which is making me feel worse. i have dust piggies to draw, paintings to paint, cubes to decorate, gallery stuff to sort out. but i can't even move much. and i'm sick of it.
tried to do some ink work in my room, but it's too messy now. i gave up when i dripped some ink down my hand. dripped. not smudged. then i realised a bedroom isn't a studio. and my studio is like the end of titanic when they are in the shitty freezing water and leonardo di crapable is all blue. well that's me. blue.
i'm going to cover myself in deep heat and get up against the radiator.
