Master, bless.

My most precious ones,

I am about to get going on those first pages. No, really.

But how could I not share the marvelousness I have just seen?

Not too long ago, juniperus, whose pottery is exquisite, made an incredible tea pot for droxy, with a delightful little figure of Professor Snape peering inside it. She also made a stupendous cauldron for pennswoods.

I could not help commissioning her for a piece with which to adorn the dungeons, also known as the Snape Museum...

I asked her for a little Professor Snape, standing next to a small cauldron.

She has begun sculpting the piece, and sent me a photograph, asking for my opinion.

Although she will be adding more details to the face, hair, hands and feet, and buttons (of course), my initial reaction was already pure, unadulterated delight!



He is so adorable. I shall die when I see the finished product.

Less than a week to go until my next appointment with Tiffany re: the second leaf added to my first lily (and 14 small stars around the snake-sword-cauldron; what the heck! I shall be in the chair, might as well make it a productive session). I plan to be celebrating the completion of the first essay that night -I am seeing her at seven- and decorative pain will be just the ticket...

Incidentally, when I try to imagine my left arm without the art that now adorns it, all I can think is that it would be The Saddest Thing Ever. After this session, it will be Captain Harlock's turn on my right arm... First, a rose underneath the skull and crossbones, and then the Captain on my upper arm. There will be less art on the right arm than the left, because I like asymmetry. Plus, Captain Harlock's style is starker than Professor Snape's -no walls lined with jars, no piles of parchment or magical knick knackery and so on.

Right. I need to get some writing done. My right eyelid is twitching... I did not get enough sleep last night, though it seems to me I slept relatively well. I dreamed that I had written something, and when I reread it, it was in a foreign language. How did I write this? I thought, puzzled. That would resume my life as a writer (I can barely type this without laughing) so far... I think of the books I have written, and I have no idea how it happened. When I write, it is truly a joint effort; it is an alchemical process. I throw ingredients in the cauldron, and the fire underneath makes it all come together somehow.

Your devoted
Logospilgrim, the quiet professor