Wanstead House, London, 30 March 2016

My train and tube connections worked out kindly for me on the way to this booking yesterday, but to scant advantage. I arrived 25 minutes early and found the building locked. Patrick – the group’s organiser – arrived five minutes later, and he too was surprised by the lock-out. Artists were also obliged to wait patiently in the pleasant evening air until a key-holder could be summoned.

Once inside, artists worked quickly to help Patrick set out chairs while I slipped into my lightweight gown. We even had a couple of minutes spare before our 7pm start. I kicked off with a 15-minute standing pose in which my right arm was raised to hold a ceiling beam, then followed with another 15-minute pose, seated, wherein both arms were wrapped tightly around my thighs.

The thigh-clasping pose left me with a delightful array of pink blotches on my arms, my legs and even where my forehead had been pressed on to my knees. I flaunted these colours over the next half-hour in an angular seated pose that took us to the midway interval. When the artists returned from their extended tea break, a single 35-minute semi-reclining pose took us to a finish.

I sat upon a pillow, on the floor, with my head lolling heavily on my arms, which were crooked across a chair. The lower half of me was comfortable but during the last ten minutes a curious disorientating numbness crept into my arms. Not for too long, nor too debilitating, mercifully. It was a nice, natural session and – like the artists – I left in good spirits.