A first, more relaxed, day in a long time but one of stomach agony, crushingly cold and pale weakness, and inability to eat, after a night of the same, almost a complete standstill of my digestive system. This happens every so often.
Work must go on. I began by reviving and promoting ArtSwarm for a special show or two, this seems an ideal time for it. I've used Religion as a theme, the theme chosen for the live ArtSwarm events. I think it's quite a tricky theme, especially for the live show, so it feels good to use it here.
The government has closed the pubs and social venues, but images from London and elsewhere online (can these be trusted?) show mass gatherings on beaches and in parks, almost careless crowds of people; and yet here I worry about going to a largely deserted park.
It seems that Amazon are restricting non-essential deliveries, which might include my poetry book.
The sun is lovely, although the day is cold, on this Mothering Sunday tainted this year with sadness and foreboding. Our wolf spiders are awake and were sunbathing in their groups. It's curious that I am arachnophobic yet rather like our wolf spiders; we've had a colony in the garden for years. These social spiders somehow seem friendly, even cute, and not too big. They will be here on Mothering Sunday next year without care or concern for human affairs. Who knows, we may all still remain in uncertainty and isolation, even then.
