Friday 30th march
Grandfather’s birthday today. I sent him some images of my work in progress, I’m sure he would have preferred a bottle of bells.

Not submitted a post for this blog all week due to being massively busy, all the girls at work have decided to take their holiday at the same time or more selfishly be off sick, so I have to actually do something to earn my corn for a change.

Bullets and church coming along nicely hit 50 yesterday and had a visit from Dave of Gateway Church on Wednesday.

Went to the show in the Merion on Tuesday night. Too didactic I thought. OK so I thought this but not using the word didactic, that was given to me the following day when Dave and John visited me in the church and brought me coffee and cake, like some poor homeless person. The technicians went through the building like a pack of dogs pawing over furniture and material to take. Dave left with a rather beautiful drape from the alter, John with a set of draws and a side table.

We discussed my work and they seemed impressed, impressed enough not to mock at least. They asked why I hadn’t filled the last place around the alter and also used the pulpit.
I explained I would not try and put bullets in the places recognised as where the vicar would stand. I wanted to leave a vacuum or space where the position of authority would usually stand or occupy. I was not trying to point a finger at the church; this would be like shooting fish in a barrel. I was pointing a finger at the congregation however. Asking about individual responsibility, there should be no leader’s only individuals within a group.

Spent the entire day yesterday in the church managed to knock out four casts before going outside and finding my car smashed in. Someone had crashed into it in the morning. Thank god the police had been on the scene and left theirs and the driver’s details. Bent my bodywork from off my back wheel and drove up the street in a car that looks now like something out of a demolition derby. 3 crashes in 18 months and I was only in the car on one of those occasions.

Had a few too many drinks last night with Vicky the Burlesque performer. Let’s be brief. Of Sicilian extraction, married to a crack addict DJ from Sheffield, performs burlesque, into hardcore bondage and other things to weird to discuss here, knows some people I know (worryingly) DJs herself and does the festival circuit. As a semi confirmed misanthrope I’m not sure I’m ready for this level of human contact.

Got home sometime around 3. Severe cramp all night waking me up in some terrible pain. Must have been all the walking.