My Diary: The Machine Stops Thinking

The wind blew like Stanley Spencer curtains.‭ ‬I put my possession in one wellington boot and stepped in another.‭ ‬I spent most of the day as a rock outcrop in my studio along with my chimney friends.‭ ‬I talked to the one in the clouds about a model railway.

The Machine Stops Thinking

The Machine Stops Thinking

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