8.30 am. I’m endeavouring to reassert my usual working regime. I begin the week not on top form, but with more reserves and fewer physical incumbrances than I possessed last week. ‘Be grateful, John! Pace is of the essence.’ To begin: the familiar round of administrative vacuuming, and a review of the stocktaking project. Then, on with final preparations for a PhD viva, which I’m attending tomorrow morning:

Presently, the stocktaking is responsive to the following set of interrogations. Which projects:

1. represent the leading edge of my achievements?
2. have attracted the most attention or acclaim?
3. must be left behind in order for me to go forward?
4. have I found the most satisfying to undertake?
5. have I found the most satisfying in retrospect?
6. do I most wish to undertake in the immediate future?

Question 1: seeks to identify those projects which represent the most original, qualitative, and pioneering contribution to their field;

Question 2: seeks to identify those projects which have attracted the most scholarly and public attention and plaudit;

Question 3: seeks to identify those projects which are either completed, or no longer relevant to my present interests, or presently impractical to implement, or of insufficient vision, originality, cohesion, significance, and potential;

Question 4: seeks to identify projects which have had the most subjective significance for me, personally (practically, intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually) in the doing of them;

Question 5: seeks to identify projects which have had the most subjective significance on their completion and subsequently;

Question 6: is informed by the answers given in response to questions 1 to 5. However, the response also takes into account of a broader context of: a) departmental research imperatives; b) the likelihood of securing funds for any given undertaken; and c) the contribution of other practitioners in fields of study relevant to the project.

Of course, what you end up with is a set of paradoxes, the resolution of which isn’t even worth thinking about. For example: one’s most original project may not be the most lauded, either publicly or academically; or one’s most original and lauded project may have been entirely unsatisfying to produce and, thereafter, a dread to behold (personally). Such is life.

1.30 pm. The morning’s itinerary completed, I returned to the sound studio and processed the Welsh translation of the Second Commandment through Handboard 1, several more times:

During the waiting game (the twenty minutes it takes for the sound to pass through the filters), I reviewed two PhD essays. The first pass sounds like the output of a tinny, tiny analogue radio with a loose wire; the second, like a stomach rumbling (heard from the inside). Others followed. I’m getting close to repeating myself. This implies that an end is in sight. 4.45 pm Modulations complete; essays reviewed; email access disappears following my account’s migration to the university’s Office 365 provision. 5.00 pm. I processed some of the afternoon’s recordings, and inserted them into the ‘Image & Inscription’ session file.

7.30 pm. Evening:

I continued in the same vein until all were installed and tested. The overall mood of the sound is one of threat, aggression, and anxiety. This now needs to be tamed. But before I can go any further, the Welsh and English readings of the text, which will be recorded next Monday, must be incorporated.

At the close of the day, I purchased a refurbished Revox A77 Mk IV tape recorder. Manufactured in 1977 (the year I started at art school), it remains a marvel of mechanical and electronic engineering. Simply the best reel-to-reel made at that time:

9.45 pm. Practise session 2.