Today is the final work day of my artist residency with Jacky Winter Gardens and I'm finding one scene in my novel frustratingly difficult to resolve. I can feel its truth hovering just out of my reach, and can't find a clear way to hold onto it. But this sort of struggle is part of the creative process so I can accept the frustration. My time here has reminded me that insights take time - such as the symbolic waterline. When you first walk into the house, a seemingly minor element framing the space is a midnight blue skirting board - it's a block of colour that stays the same level as you descend the stairs into the sitting room (the blue stripe is around knee high here) and finally down to the bedroom at the lowest level, where it's about waist height and level with the bed. The effect is like wading into a deepening ocean as you move through the house - a symbolic descent into your own subconscious, or perhaps creative spirit. It's one of my favourite aspects of the house. And I didn't even notice it until I'd been here for three days.