I look at the pure white cotton surface and wonder where to start and with absolute excitement my pencil lines start muddying the perfectly white canvas, and I am left (as is a regular occurrence) with a grey mishmash of pencil smudges and chaotic lines, that only I, can just make out where my paint needs be added.
Nonetheless my brushes at the ready, my pallet awaits, the bricks need building, and so begins the first house in Bridge Street. I adore bricks, and have a love of painting them. I am in my element, although it dawns on me already that I fear the end ...
... my bricks already feel precious, do I want to sell this painting? My windows are now in. I love the banister that I just popped in... Can I sell, sell, sell? Would I have any takers? I guess I better push on and see what happens. Keep an eye for next instalment