September 10, 2016

Throwing food into the mouths of golden fish while my turtle and my frog played in the shallows. Watering, watering, watering, determined to lose nothing until the rains return.
   
Went to the studio. Spent the first several minutes peeling used condoms off the floor and windowsill, moving canvases and furniture to see where further examples might have been flung. L has been using my studio, more or less carelessly, for a couple of years, but this is the first time I realized he had turned it–as my neighbors hinted he had–into a bathhouse. Painted some afterwards, but the spirit was out of it. Facebooked him and demanded the keys back. He owned it all and supplied a majestic apology, so the issue is closed.
   
Sketched some in pencil, which I almost never do. Remembered why.