A 180x160 cm canvas that's been leaning against my studio wall for three weeks, ostensibly done. Signed even. Then this morning in that grey Leipzig light I walked past it and saw something I hadn't put there, a kind of tension between two fields of colour that I definitely didn't paint. Or I did paint it but didn't see it until now.

So now I've cancelled the stretcher bars I was going to order and the canvas is back on the wall. I don't know yet if I'm going to ruin it or save it. That moment between is the only part of this job I still trust completely.