Today I found a little bit of sky. There was a battle for it with the brushes charging the paints while fear was holding things at bay with stupid reluctance. What was the problem? I hate painting the sky…and the belief that it would be a grand failure sits on top of any adventure in paints and squashes it murky and boring. I seemed to still hold on to some 5yr old wisdom of a flat sky and earth. But today I felt a bit like those two adventurers Ferdinand Magellan and Juan Sebastian Eleanor who set off on their ships in the 16th century to show you couldn’t really fall off the edge of the earth. Brave men those. I stood in a field and felt space swirling around me taking me to Oz but this time I’d found my magical shoes and knew they’d take me home.