February 28th
Put the car in for its MOT at the start of the day at 7am and then walked to school in the poring rain, this following a terrible nights sleep. A combination of the wind and swirling thoughts about the show meant I stared up at the ceiling until well after 1am.

Fresh Orange and Paper as I sat waiting for the studio to open, reading week meant no library open at 8 am.

Rob let me in 15 minutes early and I was soon busy cleaning up the fibre glass mould and inspecting the coal/ gel coat experiment. Spent most of the rest of the day working on the computer and occasionally reading and chatting with other students. Still no plaster.

Put an order in for parting wax, 4 tins, gel coat 1 tin large and plaster. Will go to the suppliers tomorrow with Dave and pick up in person.
Left to get my tax disc from the post office and then home and collect my car from the garage, £360 on my car today. To say this has left me fucked for cash would do a disservices to the idea of being fucked for cash.


Work, home, work.

27th February
I can’t remember what happened to me on the previous three days only to say that on Monday I started the reading week, which means business as usual in the studio and I finally managed to get the green light from Gateway Church. Phoned David Calder immediately afterwards and arranged to meet him at the church the following day. David was more than helpful and gave us permission to do all that we wanted.

Now just have to get a lock sorted by the end of the week so that we can gain entry over the weekend and start work. Will do that next.

Work is the same old same old. Moneys still to tight to mention, but the finishing line is now fast approaching.

No time to chat now, must get to work.



ps: I may be able to drop the bullets from the top of the bell tower down the inside of the tower and film the drop and impact.

23rd February

Went into the lecture all smug with a great video presentation planned. Put the video on and the sound was fucked, came away looking a real tit. Never mind.

Spent the rest of the day cleaning up the fibreglass mould with turpentine occasionally talking to Dave. Tried to contact Tony Smith about the church but he was not in. this does not look good and I don’t want to have to break it to Rona if we get turned down this late in the game. Situation Leeds is looking for something concrete by Friday. Still helps me focus.

Work was shit and so was home, a bad night’s sleep was followed by the drive down south. Had a great day with Jamie if not a little short again. This time because his mother was returning from hospital with Theo and he wanted to be there to meet her, or at least this is what Mark said to me. What could I do?

Drove home having to stop and sleep on the way, strong coffee and a snack and managed to get home at 7.30. Bought beers and lottery ticket, stayed in and watched tele.

Sunday cleaned the house then went to B&Q for some plaster for the bullets; they didn’t have any. Bought some concrete to try instead. Went to Hobby craft, never again, they too had no plaster. The place was full of pale looking women who had aspirations of being creative but were instead locked into fruitless marriages and surrounded by baying kids (cynical and mean I know, but that was my mood). I need to get out of here.

Spent the afternoon in the library where I sent Emma an email about Friday and then later went to maxis Chinese and tried to buy a copy of “Tristem Shandy” from borders.

Went home watched tele read a little and then watched the Carling Cup final. Next week will be better.

22nd February

Spent the previous night driving around Leeds looking for my wallet which turned out to have been at the bottom of my bag all night. Shit happens

woke up and went into Uni did the library and then into the studio. Spent the morning working on the context presentation for Friday and then spent the afternoon on the fibreglass bullet cleaning it up before being moved on by Pete for contaminating the studio with the smell of Turpentine.

Did work and then went home, showered and changed and went out to the art auction. This was the first student social I had managed to get to this year due to other commitments. It was good fun and I think we raised over £1000. My bullet went for £25 and Emmin for £250. I bought a book by Rona for £15 and had a good night all in.

Hammam was still worried about his Slade interview as he felt he hadn't prepared for the question of why Slade? he told me about how his mind went afterwards and it took him hours to cross London as he was thinking to much. Fuck me the guy needs to cut loose. Still thats why he will be successful.

Went home and went to bed.

20th February

Had a lecture in the morning where people gave presentations on their practice in context. It was quite interesting and I realised my practice is quite different from other peoples. Not quit so specific but more general. Not quite sure if this is because it is informed by more things or that Im just not as clever.

Worked the rest of the day in the casting room on the last part of the fibreglass mould. Just got it completed in time for the end of the day. Not sure how good a job I did, will find out tomorrow.

Went home, then to the pub where I made notes on my project and tried to make some kind of plans for the future in respect of time scale. Realised all was hopeless until I get an answer from Gateway Church this Friday about the St Marks venue.

21st February
Spent the day in the casting room breaking off the mould and cleaning it up. Thank god it worked and nearly perfectly too. Only one small break almost unnoticeable, some air pockets but nothing life threatening. Pulled off quite a lot of plaster though. Will have to guard against this when casting.

I am in some kind of desperation about this project; the piece that works the best is in fact not progressing because of the equipment failure. I must resolve this before to long. Economy of means rings out like a bell.

Went to work and the discussion was about the janitor and his inability to live in the real world. The council boss has found out he is lying about his dead wife, you know the one he is redecorating with this weekend. Fucking nut job.

Penny has had boy number 4 and called him Theo. Still, Liverpool beat Barca.

17th 18th and 19th February
Friday night was spent killing a couple of beers that were left in the fridge. Fell asleep in front of the fire and woke at 9 ish, couldn’t sleep later because of this and my mind turned to work.

Woke at 6 and lay there thinking of things I could do with the bullets and the church. Somewhere I had gotten lost and the meaning was disappearing. I needed to retrace some steps. Through the day as I repaired the car, washed clothes and ran several errands I could still not shake the idea that my work was somehow flat. Predictable and obvious, to quote a friend.

Saturday evening I went for dim sum with Alex who over ordered and only ordered cake and buns. Went back to his, had a quick smoke and then hit the Adelphi where Riky and Knighty were already keeping themselves busy. Were later joined by BBC radios Bob Walmsley, Chapel Alerton Joinery in the shape of Duncan and the RAF in the form of Pete. Pete had just arrived back from Afghanistan Watching the news about him serving in Afghanistan whilst serving in Afghanistan had shredded his head a little (that and the Taliban trying to kill him). Pete had been part of the operation that saw 2 marines strap themselves to the wings of an Apache helicopter and fly head first into a Taliban fortress to rescue their fallen comrade.

Had some birthday drinks bought me and by midnight I realised how out of practice I was when I could no longer walk safely. Tipped into a cab with Alex and soon realised I was not alone in being out of practice when Alex stopped the cab and was sick for ten minutes. A 1 mile journey took 25 minutes with periodical stops. I held it together long enough for the taxi to disappear when I myself was sick. Dick head.

Woke on Sunday feeling terrible, obviously. Water by the pint and paracetamol by the pair saw me recover enough to walk to get the car by 1. Stopped in the street by all my neighbours who proceeded to tell me all of their life stories.

There have been three times I have properly encountered all the neighbours all at once. 1st time was with friends in Chapel Allerton. Everyone came out into the street one Sunday to try and get my friends cat down from a tree I helped and caught admiring glances and smiles from my friends rather stunning neighbour, it was only later that I realised it was not me she was admiring but my painted nails and mascara from the previous nights cross dressing cocktail bender. The second time I was still living in Chapel Alerton and walked out of the front door straight into the entire street in my front yard again tending to a stricken cat. I was accompanied by an inappropriately dressed acquaintance. Yesterday I was once again hung over but thankfully alone.

Cinema, Chinese home and tele

Woke this morning went into college and into the library. Did some printing and emails and then grabbed a coffee where I bumped into Dave the tech, hadn’t seen him for a while and so we got talking. Carried on talking back at the studio. Took him to see the fibreglass cast as it stood and he asked me why I wouldn’t leave it as it was. I agreed that it was more interesting than the finished object and this started a very useful conversation about what I was going to do as a formal resolution I said I was totally lost with the exception of one thought. To build and then destroy the works. I talked about Mathew Barney Cremaster cycle and how, when in New York, I had gone round the Guggenheim after he had filmed in there and how he had documented and presented something back to the audience that was in effect a video work. He allowed you to participate, in a way, to see hear and smell everything that was also being relayed on the screens in front of you. I need to turn the bullets into a performance of research and development, production construction transportation? and destruction.

“If production is bypassed the head goes into the ass” (36)

I referenced Marshall McMullen and the identity Image and the Old men of Iron Mountain suggesting that the only real thing to do would be to destroy the casts one after another or at least start this process with the final cast. Throw them off some ledge on top of one another record this from a fixed point of view and replay the sound to echoes around the church. Create the same effect that Barney did with the Cremaster but with something a little less surreal.

Click To Play

Fixed up the bullet ready to fibreglass the last section and spent the afternoon in the computer room trying to get the computer to work. Did some stuff but had to leave at 3.45. Got to work and the Janitor told me that His wife had died at the weekend. I said I felt very sorry for him, this is now the 6th member of his family to die in the 6 months I’ve worked with him, 4 sons a sister and a wife. I wouldn’t mind but he only had two sons to start with.

I nearly forgot, I turned 31 today.

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(36) Mathew Barney “The Cremaster Cycle” pp7

Friday 16th February
Got up early with a touch of wind from the haggis, I part ate last night. Rough nights sleep meant I was late and so went straight to the studio, coffee and paper in hand. Had a good chat with Dave about his recent moonlighting across the road. He seemed reinvigorated.










Started work removing the frame from the cast and prepping for the next section to be coated in fibreglass. John arrived and we did some work before he got called away by Susie to sort out her universe. No really, she’s making a doughnut shaped universe.










Started fibre glassing in the afternoon after spending lunch on the computer working on the presentation film for next Tuesday. It will either work really well or make me look like a twat. Probably work really well at making me look like a twat. Finished the second coat at four and made a dash for home, quick change and off to work.

14th February
It’s Valentines Day so it is ironic that I return to the blog after spending the past two weeks with her. She has now returned to Hong Kong albeit via Bangkok and then Laos.

She came and I met her in Birmingham, she stayed with me in Leeds where she met with staff from the metropolitan uni. We visited Scotland and St Andrews, drove the Fife coast, argued and took some time to get to know one another again, or at least get used to each other after 8 months apart. She met with her old PHD professor, had lunch bought haggis and we returned home to Leeds for a day and then went to London for a couple more. I went to Tate modern, she too London Met. I did the full circuit and saw great works by Robert Morris “Mirrored cubes” and “Cacophony” by an artist who’s name evades me. Paid little attention to the Gilbert and George retrospective as I find them repetitive, obvious and lazy. Obviously I was born a little too late to understand or appreciate their impact.

Visited Brick Lane that night and had curry with the locals in a small Indian cafe, no frills and no money. Food was great and authentic. Happy days. Followed this with a cocktail and a beer before returning to the hotel.

Woke up left the hotel and had breakfast in Whitechapel at the indoor market. Bumped into Tracey Emmin walking down the street. Went to the Hoxten square White Cube and got redirected to the other White Cube. She was not amused. Visited the Royal Academy and saw Kiefers “Jericho” installation, amazing. Then onto the White Cube itself where I saw his paintings, breathtaking. I can not say enough to do them justice; I was simply struck mute by the layers and textures in his work.

I had first seen this work in an article in the Guardian some time in late January. Before I had either read the artists name or anything about his subject matter. “Rorate coeli desuper et nubes pliant iustum”, the photograph reproduced in newsprint only, still conveyed everything I could have read or understood.


If I was clever enough my words would be able to do some justice to such powerful works. If I was able to, I would extract what it was that stopped me dead when I turned the page, and what it was, about his work that I felt I instantly knew. Instead I must at length, draw upon the words of Simon Schama.

“Lately the undertaker of History has turned gardener. From deep beneath the loam of memory heaped over the canvas, Kiefers vast, rutted wastelands have germinated brilliant resurrections: pastel blooms spikes of verdure sprouting irrepressibly through the skin of a hard baked earth-rind: or peachy pink poppies trembling atop spindly black stalks that climb gawkily from bitumous slag”(33)

Further into the article Schama moves on to Kiefers underlying principles and beliefs concerning the modes and methods of the production of his work, and it is here that Schama manages to put into words those swirling thoughts and ideas that until now had been little more than instinct in my own practice.

“Kiefer does earth space not cyberspace. No luddite, he none the less has let it be known that what he dislikes most about computers is the indiscriminate quality of there memory, a universe of data held simultaneously, accessible at the click of a mouse, permanently available and impervious to either natural of poetic distortion. Since nothing may be digitally forgotten nothing may be truly recalled.” (34)

He continues,

“Kiefers work burrows away at time, and what it exposes also makes visible the painful toil of the dig, skinned knuckles, barked shins and all.” (35)

Had late lunch in Soho (at her favourite kitchen). Walked to the tube and bumped into Sir Richard Attenboutgh. Tube, followed by the drive home.

Had Jamie at the weekend and took him to stay in Windsor, well Eton common/ Dorney. Stayed in the converted barn of a 16th centaury house on the banks of the Thames. Beautiful and rather cheap considering. Went to Windsor castle on the third day and saw opulence beyond imagination. One door handle from one room was worth as much as my house. Looked at some stunning Da Vinci sketches, Michelangelo studies, Rembrandts, many Van dykes and Ruben’s. Crazy shit really, almost too much to take in and believe. I wonder what they keep in the many other rooms of this and the many other properties they have, that we don’t get to see.

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(33)Simon Schama “review” section Saturday guardian January 2007 pp 12 paragraph 3, (34) pp 12 paragraph 4 (35) pp 12 paragraph 6.