The final part of my essay, Life Study, has been appeared on the American blog, Art Is Moving. Originally published offline four years ago, this was my first attempt at writing about my experiences as an artist and was, to some extent, the inspiration for this blog. I've since come to think of writing as an elemental part of my art-making, with texts finding their way into my watercolours and drawings. Writing necessarily imposes an intellectual discipline, a need to get my thoughts straight.After an intense week of 'cleaning up' a handful of large works before they're delivered to their buyers, I am having a rare weekend off. It's needed. I've spent way too much time around the sickening fumes of enamel: my skin crawls with allergic burns and itches, my eyes are dessicated and I'm nauseous. I need to get these works shipped next week so I have one or two more days of exposure before I'm done with this toxic medium for a while. With luck, a couple of days' rest will help the physical reaction I have to it subside. Not that I can go anywhere. The gearbox of my usually reliable VW van blew out yesterday, leaving me stranded for an hour, waiting for a tow-truck at the edge of Sydney's western-most suburbs just as the evening commuter exodus became a three-lane, five-mile tailback. My local garage says it will take a couple of days to get hold of the part.