I thought I had a partner … I do not, for the man in question loves a yacht. They say man’s best friend is his dog … it is not, Man’s best friend is his yacht.
My best friend is my dog. I write in my journal, he writes in his log He sleeps on his yacht, I sleep with my dog. While I’m asleep between my sheets, He pulls his in and coils them neat. For in his mind a sheet is a rope, I often wonder how I cope.
In my mind, when I think of a painter: Cezanne, Degas or someone quainter, Like Australian Impressionists, Among them some of my favourite artistes, Roberts, McCubbin, Streeton, Conder, Able to capture our deep blue yonder. Now they were painters,…
