Underworld; 14.12.2017

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Saturday 5th November

AND THE HOPE OF THE WORLD:

Woke up with Hockney painting Autumn on my brain. Been listening to the dance
in the colour of the leaves – how to translate it. New work in the pipe & on the mind
every morning. Down in the city as the sky gets dull shop illuminations get theirÂ
Dickensian glow on. For a second there I lost communication with the words thatÂ
tumble out’ve everything. Head was in a box, a storm, a fog. That;s when you
got to step back, take a look at the bigger picture. Goodmorning Mr Hockney.Â

(K)

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