Artist Imposter

Dear Diary,

God I love this town! Today I strolled through town, doing my morning shopping (electricity, 100% organic brown bread - the last loaf - and of course, cyder) peering at the gorgeous rolling countryside visible from the town centre. I bumped into some old familiar faces, all happy to see me, I was most chuffed: not a lone magpie in sight.

Then I had a pleasant surprise: I happened upon the magnanimous Mike Taylor, artiste extrodinarre. He ate humble pie and bought me a cuppa, it is so nice to rebuild a bridge of friendship. The spirit of forgiveness, forgetting not the wrongs done in times past. He explained his behaviour, far too personal to recount here, but it opened my eyes to the reasons why he 'lost the plot' in a violent outburst, some week and a half ago.

Another thing has been eating him up inside. He had an exhibition at the local Arts Centre some time ago. Being a reclusive artist (with matching temperament I might add, akin to mine own explosive personality, a true artist) he put no contact details on his exhibition. People were looking for him online and found another artist by the same name who lives in the next county. Imposter! His art is a completely different style, abstract, art nouveaux. Luckily he had the good fortune to cross paths with the head of the Arts Centre, and explained what had happened. He made her laugh by saying "It looks like I'm painting south-paw!" (with his left). It's gradually getting cleared up. Confounded identity. Contrasting styles.

I love this town, and the people in it, are what make the place come alive. The spirit of friendship, goodwill, and peace.

On the Flex,

Maximus. xx