Saturday, 31 July 2010

The security camera opposite my desk regularly pans across the length of my flat as it turns from watching Orwell Place to Tacket Street. I wonder what it captures as it does so. A naked dash to the kitchen? Nose picking? The flickering of my video projector? Last night, to get in the mood for the mission ahead I watched From Russia with Love with A. It was only, I think, the second Bond and was low on gadgets. In a panic I bought a few more gadgets today, including a movement sensor, some large balloons (hardly gadgets I know) and a clockwork snail. 007 himself seemed far more vulnerable than later outings, relying mostly on luck and the help of others. I need to finish my packing now (clothes mainly) and practice hefting my many bags. I hope the circle line is running tomorrow otherwise I am in for a very painful cross London experience.

Other news:

The first draft of my novel is now proofed and at the printers. I can expect a dummy copy within a couple of weeks.

I have applied for an animate commission offering them a film made from the cutting room floor of Pearlville. I am not sure how the judges will take the offer.

I purchased a number of buildings (models) for experimental purposes. I hope M likes them.

Wednesday, 28 July 2010

Watched Orphee last night and was much taken by the special effects. Especially the use of reversed shots and projections. I feel certain I should be able to shoehorn some of these ideas into my residency work. I have a few plans but much will be left to chance and desperate measures. My time today has been roughly divided between more packing, editing my "novel" and answering emails. After that I spoke briefly to Monika to outline my plans for a series of sculptures involving planes crashed into buildings.

I am to be met at Picadilly Station and driven on to the mill where my work will begin. At present I have a large hardcase on wheels, a reinforced attaché case for my electronic gadgets, a laptop bag, camera bag, and a trunk containing the necessary attire for an extended operation. (one piece terry towelling bathing suit, dinner jacket, panama hat etc).

Tuesday, 27 July 2010

Spent the morning at my studio packing things into a large case. Had a brief worry about squeezing fireworks next to a sparking laser gun, a canister of helium, a box of matches, fifty ping pong balls and some liquid nitrogen. The case is, apart from being my equipment for Pearlville, a physical parallel to my mental state. On Sunday I am to catch the early train to Manchester for 14 days of intense film making. Before then I have a number of small tasks to complete. I am trying to edit my previous blog in order that it will be fit for publication and in the hope it will be ready before November as I hope that it can be part of my show at Tap, Southend. I have just heard that my presence might also be required at the next London Art fair and new work must be made very soon. A curator of video events in France has also asked that I send her some work. I wonder if she remembers that I did do just that a few years ago and suffered a rejection. Also this afternoon I received an interesting proposition from the curator of Wilmore House, wherever that is.

Monday, 26 July 2010

A Rest Cure

I have been in hiding on a secret island. No Internet, no phone, no television, just heat, sea & cicadas. I this seclusion I suffered a strict regime of reading in the shade, enforced siestas and frequent cold showers. The holiday chalet literature included two Alistair Maclain's (one FBI one Western), an excellent James Bond homage, "the owl service", and a Margaret Atwood. My preparations for my iminent arrival in Manchester are all but complete.

Sunday, 11 July 2010


Managed to spend twenty minutes in my studio throwing broken things in a case. Before long I was sheeting sweat a human water feature.

Thursday, 8 July 2010


I'm so busy editing my "novel" I can't write anymore. So here are some photos of my work at Artside in Southend. I still haven't done any work for Pearlville.

Friday, 2 July 2010


The blister has finally burst. It had been stabbed, poisoned, drowned repeatedly in salty water but finally only succumbed to the taking out of the rubbish. Evidently the extra weight shouldered as I minced downstairs in my slippers caused enough pressure to finally bring it's short but significant reign of terror to an end. In a way I am sad. I enjoyed talking about it, extracting sympathy for it, and like a Victorian showman selling tickets for a peek.