I showed my portfolio of artwork around when I was there the other day. The temp receptionist asked me the inevitable question about how long it took me to do my drawings? At least she didn't ask where I got my ideas from? I hate these questions, because just I don't know what the answers are. She did tell me though that I was wasted being a nurse, and that it wasn't often she came across someone with such talent. This paradoxically filled me with despair, as I'm acutely aware of my failure as an artist.
It interested me that one of the other nurses in the office, having heard this praise, found excuses not to look at my portfolio when it was handed to her.
Mecca bingo reflected in the surface of the canal, taken on the way to work the other morning.