Harmony Hall, London, 1 December 2025

12 Dec 2025

It had been a nerve-jangling morning and afternoon. In winter rain and gusting winds, this was the first of four days over which all external-facing windows and doors of my home would be replaced. Long-overdue essential works, but highly destructive in the undertaking; vast gaping holes exposing my inner sanctums to the roaring elements.

By 5pm, three windows had been replaced, apparently successfully, and at last I was alone in the house. All was calm, if rather messy. I had a vague feeling of shell-shock yet summoned sufficient wits to make scrambled eggs on toast as a light meal before making scrambled body shapes for Walthamstow Lifedrawing.

You might think the quiet solitude of the pose space is where life models replay, distil, and meditate upon whatever thoughts are most preoccupying. Indeed that can be the case. But if the mind allows, it can also be a place where cares as well as clothes are shed; where all that matters is stability, stillness, and the passage of time.

It was nice to pose for this lovely group and forget the outside world for two hours. As artists sketched, I sometimes counted the seconds, sometimes surveyed my physical sensations, sometimes made idle inventories the globe, sometimes dreamt no further than my next pose. And when I returned home… the house was still standing.