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Sunday, 7 December 2008

Just an Ordinary Sunday

Nope - this time it's true. I have had a truly uneventful Sunday. I've played with my notebook, gathered my photos, sorted some vids - it can all mean only one thing - my hands are bandage free!
And I'm heading towards the end of the final semester (Oh Joy!).
I still have to work out my relationship with the public, a vital component of my project text, so if any of you have any bright ideas on that one feel free to drop me a line.
For those of you who don't know - I'll be filming this Tuesday, in the public, hopefully with the public ...
More news later.
Perhaps.

Thursday, 16 October 2008

The F**@@!N Black Hole

Dear Loved ones
It will take me a long time to type this out, when last I wrote I had at least the use of one hand, today I have had the full effects of the black hole experiment (those bastard scientists should have been stopped at birth, abortion is good, science is wrong: aside-yes it's a Shakespearian moment) and now I type with my nose. If I knew how to operate the web cam via use of nose I could prove this (8th) wonder of the world to you. (This is very tiring) The banks blame me personally for world collapse, I was about to take on a pot washing job to prove I could deal with this momentary loss of faith (i.e. pay them back, all would be well) but the black hole caught up with me and 5 minutes before I walked into said job I slammed the good hand in car door. I have two legs ready for the next black hole effect, in the meantime I'm learning the joys of a sticky arse.
x

Monday, 29 September 2008

Art, money and a cracked wrist



I cracked my wrist on Saturday night whilst having a little dance. "Were you under the influence?" the self-righteous brandy nosed medicine man asked.
"I don't drink!" indignantly.
"It's not broken."
"You're looking at the wrong x-ray."
Dear God, even though you don't exist, please save me from the experts. And while you're at it please save my choice of working life from the shamen who have chosen the entrants for this years Turner Prize. Between that and the collapsing banks run by the over fed buyers of such desultory emptiness, I fear I am watching the demise of civilisation as we know it. Nero's Rome must be close to burning again.
Anybody got a match.