I’ve got my paints down from the cupboard upstairs or rather I’ve had help getting the box down because I’m not supposed to lift anything heavy. It’s been years since I’ve done painting but I’m feeling called to get my hands into some colour. With no idea what I am going to paint, I dollop paint straight onto a board and sink my fingers in. My brain switches off, I enter flow state and out from the waves on my fingertips, this face comes tumbling out, a watery and wild spirit with light in their eyes. Later Paul asks if it’s a zombie. I certainly feel like one in many ways. I’m chronically exhausted and I do spend much of my time thinking about brains (having read a lot about how chronic pain signals can be amplified by the brain and other research). Perhaps I am a zombie and art is the magic that is going to help me come back to life again?