During phase two of the works being done at Paintworks, Bristol where my studio is, I was unable to concentrate because of the noise so retreated to my garden where I think the company of the birds around crept into my psyche, that night I had a dream that I had a dead robin in my hand and I put a little blanket on it to try and keep it warm. Opposite our flat is a church and in my dream I went round the back of the church, only to see lots of protesters coming back from a big march with "save the robin" on big placards. Anyway I am not sure whether it was the power of their demonstration or the power of god the little robin came alive and I woke up.

Who knows what was really going on in my head but intellectually it
could be to do with global warming and the robin being a symbol of
nature. The robin being known as the 'gardeners friend' and very
typically British, if the robin is in danger we are in more trouble
than we thought. It could also just be me getting over a few broken
dreams.