It’s six in the morning and I write this after taking down the election poster, but not yet knowing the outcomes. Reflecting my mood, I am listening to Leonard Cohen’s Famous Blue Raincoat.
The last polls suggested the leading parties were neck and neck, leadership of the next government balanced on a knife edge. For as long as I don’t look, this is still true: we have at one and the same time both Labour and Conservative-led coalitions. In a few minutes, I will collapse the probabilities by looking. And I fear that what I will find is a Conservative near majority. Their interests converge with those of the Scots Nationalists in breaking up the country so a narrow cadre of financial interests can rule without check the broken remnants.
Election day was also my son’s tenth birthday. The day turned out themed around sloths, his totemic animal. Here he is last weekend, sitting on the train reading Philip Pullman on his way to watch his mother run her first 10K race: 58 minutes by the way.
Here are my remaining sketches from the last week, an attempt to visualise the bird beneath the feathers.