Do you remember that one? “The Mamas and the Papas” in (I think) 1965. What a great song! It has been in my mind all day, ever since I heard it this morning while I was rotating the display of my pictures at The Square & Compass.* My state of dreaming has two causes at the moment, I think.
Last night, as I was preparing to go to the weekly life-drawing class, suddenly I heard tawny owls in the trees down the street. When we moved in here, twenty years ago, the owls were a regular part of the audible landscape. They even used to call seated on the roof of the house. Then, for some reason I can only guess at, they went, and have not been around for several years now. I cannot explain it, but to hear them again filled me with absolute delight. I’m certainly not normally a superstitious person, but I experienced this almost as an omen. It felt like a significant event, but I am at a loss to say what it might signify.
The other stimulus to dreaming is my plan for next week. Every few years I arrange to go to some small, isolated cottage, away from every distraction, where I paint, read and think. Tomorrow I’m setting off on another such “retreat” not far from the small town of Harpenden. I’m really looking forward to it, although by no means sure about where it might lead. These trips always do lead to something, and the result is always different. They have actually made a huge contribution to my art. So: I’m “dreaming” at the moment, metaphorically if not literally.
A consequence of my trip, however, is that I will probably not be posting until a week today. I really do take seriously the old monastic tradition of retreat, and there is no company, no radio or TV or newspapers, and as little human contact as is possible. So, even if the cottage has wifi I don’t anticipate using it. I’ll probably tell you about it afterwards.
The visit to the Square & Compass this morning was, as usual very encouraging. I sold nothing there in the last display period which, if I’m honest, included some rather weak material I put in simply to ensure novelty. This time I have more confidence in my offering. It would be nice to make another sale there. Here I am, dreaming again! One of the good things about going there is the friendly welcome I get from the staff. As I took the old display off the walls this morning the new assistant manager exclaimed, “Oh! You’re taking away our pictures!” I explained that I was just changing them. It was really nice to have that spontaneous expression of identification with my work.
*That, and If you go to San Francisco, a couple of years later. I didn’t get to San Francisco until about 1978, by which time nobody was wearing flowers in their hair.