sleeps by windows

working late into the night/morning..

Rats in paradise.

worried. what else can i say?

the high will tomorrow become the
realastion of reality.

le grande opening..

both of my submissions to the Chapel Gallery
where selected and will be unveiled to the
public tomorrow..
'another enriching layer of disquiet' will finally
get it's chance to please or horrify, and then of
course the paper towel mistake, 'field studies ii'

what will people think of this??

how will it fair next to the real big players?

Temporary Like Achilles

(dreamt for light years in the belly of a mountain)

So the story goes.. it was a Wednesday.. (told you!)

I couldn't sleep because I knew it was there, waiting
on the doormat..

Nights in the paperclip factory, building fences around
myself, protection, temporary.. get these hopeless fucks
away from my bleeding Jesus fucking hands.. jeeping cunts.
(ohh... the carpet is the wrong shade of chewing gum grey)

Onwards and upwards..

The Chapel has delivered me salvation.

Still (v1)

Tuesday morning, it’s dull and a cold grey light is filtering through the blinds and dusting the back of the settee, I’ve never been a big fan of Tuesday mornings.

I made the journey a few days ago in typical biblical weather conditions to deliver a couple of the latest offerings to the ‘Chapel’

Now all I can do is sit here waiting.. approvals.. decisions.. acceptance or denial & rejection.

This has to be the worst part, the waiting, it puts a film of indecision and doubt over current work.. uncertainty in everything..

The letterbox has just clapped, nothing of interest though, not that I expected any news, not on a Tuesday, who ever receives any news on Tuesday?







Can you feel the still?