Tonight after work I interviewed an amazing artist, Pravithra, for a magazine profile. She was warm and funny and stupidly talented. I was privileged to spend time in her orbit.
On the way home, while waiting to cross the road, a $10 note fluttered across my foot; I looked around to see who owned it and apart from a chap to my right, there was no-one around. "It seems to like you, keep it," he said. And so I did.
Later there was gossip and laughter with a couple of the girlies and their dogs in the Town Belt and when I got home there was an email commissioning four out of the five stories I'd pitched to Canvas Magazine. That is not a misprint.
The cherry on the top of this glorious day is that I do not have to show up to the gulag for 72 hours. Insert happy dance here.
Today's images are of Pravithra's oil paintings:
On the way home, while waiting to cross the road, a $10 note fluttered across my foot; I looked around to see who owned it and apart from a chap to my right, there was no-one around. "It seems to like you, keep it," he said. And so I did.
Later there was gossip and laughter with a couple of the girlies and their dogs in the Town Belt and when I got home there was an email commissioning four out of the five stories I'd pitched to Canvas Magazine. That is not a misprint.
The cherry on the top of this glorious day is that I do not have to show up to the gulag for 72 hours. Insert happy dance here.
Today's images are of Pravithra's oil paintings:
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