when Banana got old she moved out of the studio and made a home in the hollowed back of a stack of geoff newton canvasses that he'd dumped in the old bike shed when he graduated. In the early evenings I'd call her with our agreed possum call. Banana would waddle out of the shed and gingerly make her way over to the stoop where i'd sit with my tidbit for her. she and i knew true love and thats a good thing too as i was in training for the monastic artist life ive since lead for the last 10 years or so. She was becoming blind by then which only intensified our bond. Man, she'd do anything for a weston's chocolate biscuit. One evening i noticed she was getting fat,not something that could be attributed to diet as she was becoming dependent on me for any food..a blind possum is easy prey for foxes and feral cats..no she was with possumling..amazingly..and this is true..she would let me look into her pouch and check out the baby while she ate. possums carry their young in a pouch for some months before they ever emerge as the hissing little furballs they are. This picture was made when the babyBanana was still living at home. its a prune in mama's fingers. mamabanana was not in good shape by then.