Another day, another sitting. I quite like the way the sessions drift between music, observation, occasional stretching and a lot of high class gossip. Yesterday I was given an enormous bowl of coffee and then made to sit dead still for two hours which is a form of Japanese torture. For some reason, we discussed my very brief and disastrously unsuccessful career as the opening bat for my prep school 1st. XI. I suppose it is inevitable that being painted engenders a degree of self reflection. Today was quieter and more reflective. We tried to remember the brilliance of Humphrey Ocean’s speech last night. As I sat, bits of it came back to me: the fact that he regarded himself, like Constable, as a flatearther and that Constable retained a strong affinity for the ground. He’s the only person I know who can speak intuitively entirely from the left side of the brain.