The parchment disc Host stuck to the roof of my mouth. I kept trying to work it loose with my tongue before the priest made his way down to me with the goblet of wine. It eventually dissolved, you don't chew those things like you would the protestant Saltine or Ritz.

Gordon called yesterday and switched the print exchange back to Tuesday. He suggested that I go with him to his art studio to see his emerging work because he wanted some feedback on it. It's been under wraps, and save one other person with whom he shares studio space, I would be the only one to see it. He also thought he might do a little painting while we were there--but first, we had to attend his Anglican parish for a weekday Mass in honour of St. Bartholomew.

I sat between the priest's wife and another lady and fumbled my way through the liturgy...not in an obvious way, but I felt very out of my element, not knowing all the verbal cues. Gordon was assisting with the service, as is usually the case when I attend with him, so we couldn't sit together.

I have been sworn to secrecy about the nature of his new pieces, but I can say that they are indicative of such growth in him as an artist. I told him he should be proud of these pieces. I told him that they are inspiring. I felt as though I was looking at poems.

So, now after much discussion of the print on these pages, I have it in my posession, and can give it to my friend who is departing for a more northern borough.