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ferristeaching

The Lumber Yard.

From my desk and PC I have a lovely view over a building supplier.

Death and the Maiden, oil pastel and ink in pastel paper, 2000. I love life-drawing; and love even more teaching it, but Lockdown put a stop to that. Might try again in the autumn, possibly at Eddington. We'll have to see. The plan is to do a much reduced amount of teaching in secondary school, but I daren't fritter away my inheritance. I did a similar thing once before, supposedly writing a nivel for Random House, but they ended up not liking the offering. There are now 9 books lying unpublished. The short stories are good, but it'd be nice to get another volume out there, without recourse to vanity publishing. No-one bought

'The Cub-Hunting Season.' Well, another flop. When I see some of the dross shown in commercial galleries I cringe. My gallery (though with no formal contract) sold a piece for £3500, they got me to change the title, and took 50% commission. I guess that is pretty standard, and 'River of Blood' is not the perfect 'come-and-buy-me' moniker? My astrologer housemate promises that the stars say things will now get better. I am not holding my breath.

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