Oil on canvas, stretched and ready to hang.

Signed on the front.

Many of us grew up with these couches, their internals were hessian belting with steel springs.
Over time the hessian belting would wear and the steel springs would point off in funny directions, so that when you sat in them you’d feel your bottom sinking down, down, down.
Your feet obviously were firmly planted on the floor, and so as your bottom sank down, down, down into the couch, you would find yourself just able to peer over the top of your knees at your host.
This photo has been released with a new biography of Nick Drake by his sister Gabrielle.
As he drifted into his mid twenties he was too cripplingly shy to perform live, to do a promotional tour of his albums, to even keep up with friends in London.
As his sister now says, he needed to be at home with his parents as his mental health deteriorated but it also started to seem more and more like a prison.
For those of us for whom living at home with our parents as adults became an easy lazy lethargy, comfortably sucking the energy out of us as we watched the years drift by with nothing to show for it, both the photo of Nick Drake on which this painting is based, is bottom sinking down, down, down into that couch and more broadly the life of Nick Drake as well, it is an emotional metaphor that we will always connect with.