Tap. Tap. Spin.

I've been working on a piece for the last couple of days and I'm starting to get nervous. It's always a delicate process, considering that all of my superstitions have been funnelled into this one area. The construction of any picture is dotted with rituals that are part OCD, part honest fear. The longer a piece sits on the dining room table, the more likely I am to make a slip or offend any stray spirit. So, I try to get done as quickly as possible, making everything just so, setting my pencils to one side and my tea and brushwater to the other (Dry=Left, Wet=Right), placing the lamp perfectly in its dustring, saying a few quiet words, and making all the necessary ablutions.

Even now, I wonder if the mere mention of this is enough to set some vengeful thing abroad. (Shrug). It's about time for me to offer up another sacrificial piece anyway.