A plan can be comforting. Components sketched with black tipped arrows pointing to the place where it yearns to go. The whole is bewildering so you take it one piece at a time until the design starts to fall into place. The toxic glue sticks to your fingers. The whorls of your fingerprints get etched into the congeal of peel. Scaled down paint pots set out on the table, the oddly satisfying sensation of prising the lid with the tip of a negative drive screwdriver.
Paint and glue, open a window!
You follow the puzzle. Fatal to panic, if you bypass any stage without maximum concentration, try to speed beyond being in the moment you’re sure to have a botched job on your hands.
The days do not come in a cellophane wrapped box with a folded insert of paper. No ready made sketch to follow.
Maybe we should sit round the table and think about this for a while.