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