Most of this week and last have been spent on drawings and preparation for next year's paintings, interspersed with the odd group of review conversions for the new Bytten. Today though, not much at all has been done. I was hoping to sketch out all of a large picture of Saint Andrew, but perhaps Andrew was offended by the anger in the picture and so made sure that my progress was interrupted by several porlocks. In the end I had to escape the house and after a day of frustration and depression the huge piece of paper has little more than four solitary faint lines upon it. To make up for this I painted a cornfield, the image on the front of a birthday card, and later converted another five reviews. Not a completely useless day then, but close.