No painting today, still sick. My heart is also sick, and the fatigue from it all can be overwhelming. Ahh, humaning in the cosmos of chaos.

The flowers are from our favourite Dutchman’s flower stall when we are in the mountains. We always have a yarn. He is from my mother’s homeland, Holland. He looks tired and worried. He sells us the flowers cheap and tells us how to look after them.

The line drawing is just me studying a photo through the pen. An exercise in loose line work of a very difficult object. I abandoned it when I got to the tree. No where near the amount of detail was drawn than was in the photo.

It has a presence this building. I think it was an old town hall, but is now a dance and theatre studio. The architecture is mesmerising.

Cobblestone crossings wait at the lights. This is an old town that holds many stories. It’s cleaned up now mostly, but it’s been preserved and many people and cultures gather here for art, cafes, bars, music and the eclectic shops.