The Studio

22nd April
A day behind but this is for a prompt from napowrimo - "Overheard Speech".

The Studio

No, the studio's great man - I've got it three days a week
And that's enough for you, enough time to fit in your,
you know, your creativity.
Yeah, I sit in the armchair and ponder,
I look at the canvas, then my eye sees the brush,
And then, I close my eyes.
And then you start painting?
Grief, no man, no painting, just sleeping, thinking and maybe,
Smoking...
Smoking?
Yeah, smoking, y'know, getting mellow, that's when it happens...
It happens?
Yeah, it happens...
What, what happens?
Well, I see things, things that will be my paintings
That's great. And then you start painting?
No , man, then I go home and have a bath and maybe,
maybe the next day I might remember something
And bring out a piece of paper
A small piece of paper,
And draw something.


how do you work

Tudor House

Tudor House.

Tudor House, you sit In the heart of Canterbury,
Within the city walls, Part of it's history since the 16th century.
You look out,
Your window boxes overflowing -blues- whites - purples-
Your upper half hanging, leaning,
Over the narrow, cobbled, dusty street.
Your door - only five feet high-people were short in former times.
Now a bed and breakfast, your period features,
Invite the traveler, the visitor,
To stay.
With the Cathedral you share a past.
But today,
Today a mother walks by, not giving you a second glance,
Her baby  in a buggy, Hurrying - somewhere.
A woman passes, laden with shopping in
Marks and Spencer's bags.
A group of young folk - students maybe-
Not interested in the Museum, stroll by, smoking,
Carry drinks in bottles-chat busily.
Two bicycles- there are many in the city-
Pass  your front.
And you,
Tudor House,
You, look on,
Telling your own story.