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.

Tuesday 30th January
Started the morning positively and buffed the first layer of wax off the plaster bullet. Applied second layer and then went to the seminar. Not much was said but the group talked about the show and location problems. This spurred me on to get phoning that afternoon, which I did.

Spoke to Simon regards situation Leeds and got the same old story of ums and errs. Left a message for Andy Abbot and he confirmed the generally slow pace and indecision. Still doesn’t sound positive however and it looks like myself and Rona will be showing separately from the Situation Leeds show.

Spleen vented. I returned to the workshop and chatted to a number of people. Had to leave early to clean up the house and car before she arrives tomorrow. Can’t wait to see her.

I explained to Emma I would be in London at the Kiefer show on the Tuesday so probably not able to present, said I would try to put down onto DVD instead, to show in my absence but we will see how much time I will have for this. Need to print off selected work, record a reading, download file and then marry to images as well as produce more images and place in some video footage of the riots in Amsterdam, thieving the Banksy and the war window. I hope I can do all of this in time, as it would be better than just standing in front of the class myself.

Fran took the wooden penis I carved last year for this Thursday’s fundraiser at the Broodenel or some such venue. It will be raffled off at the “get your cock out to rock out” night. I shall have to pass by if I can persuade her to come. Might be a problem.

Home cleaning followed by work cleaning. Lawrence of Zimbabwe and Wellington of South Africa could still not believe that Tracy of Middleton calls her husband "Wanka". They have been laughing about that for two days now. Nothing like experiencing different cultures.

I will not be adding to this blog now for some time. I will be busy having life affirming experiences, grab it while you can...

27th & 28th January

I spent Saturday in the library as Jamie was Ill so there was no contact. Got some useful work done on this blog. Spent the evening reading and making more notes at home.

Picked my parents up from the airport at 11.45pm, later than planed, had a good chat and a couple of beers with the old man once I got them home, and then straight to bed.

Woke in the morning had breakfast and then went off to see my grandfather in hospital. We sat and talked for a while. He said he had never experienced so much pain as he was in right now and that the medication was pissing him off making him "bilious".

In 15 years of severe pain caused by having his rectum removed because of cancer my grandfather has not once resorted to using pain killers. But then my grandfather is a bread of man not long for the Western world. 50 years in the pit give or take several out for bad behaviour, meant that even in his 60s he was a man feared and respected by all other men in the village. Now 88, the once raging inferno is now a mere flame. The blue scars still remain however, Tattoos from a harder life.

“The coal dust of which the air underground is full enters every cut and then the skin grows over it and then forms a blue stain like tattooing, which in fact it is.” (31)

We talked a little about the operation and about his recovery and then talked football quickly followed by stories about working underground. I mentioned my plan to capture his memories on tape but I don’t think he understood what I meant. He did however say this.

“I worked in seven pits and there was only ever one man who could fill his packs quicker than me, he was a Pole. (and with genuine respect) the Poles are really tough you know”.

“It is impossible to watch the fillers at work without feeling a pang of envy for their toughness. It is a dreadful job that they do, an almost superhuman job by the standards of an ordinary person. (He continues) They really do look like iron- hammered iron statues- under the smooth coat of coal dust which clings to them from head to foot.” (32)

My parents soon arrived along with my sister Sam her husband Neil and the two boys. Luckily I had some sweets to keep them occupied together with some tall stories. I think if I told them the sun came up everyday they would not believe me anymore. This time I told them a story that involved me working as a clown for the Moscow state circus and the strong man (drunk on vodka) tipping my caravan over as a prank. Whilst this did not happen to me, it did actually happen to an acquaintance working in the orchestra for the Moscow State circus at the time. When we went outside Ben the youngest asked what the thing on the back of my car was, I explained it was for pulling my caravan, now did they believe my story. The two boys 5 and 3 looked at each other back at me and then back at the car but did not answer.

Returned home and went to the library, spent four hours writing and re editing the draft blog only for my computer to crash taking all my work with it, shit!

Went for an all you can eat Chinese at Maxis to cheer myself up, read Nietzsche while I ate, fuck it!

Home and the final of celebrity big brother. The nation expunged its racist guilt by voting for the Asian Girl.

Bed.

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(31) George Orwell “The roar to Wigan Pier” pp32 (32) pp 20-21
I spent Saturday in the library as Jamie was Ill so their was no contact. Got some useful work done on this blog. Spent the evening reading and making more notes at home.

26th January

Had a tutorial with Emma about this blog and more precisely the practice in context. She was pleased and had useful suggestions of other artists I might want to look at and also read. We had a friendly chat about both the blog and connected themes. I tend to waffle and deviate from the subject but Emma was positive that I was on the right track and that with some tuning, deeper reading and application I could turn out a half decent work. Probably the most positive thing I’ve ever experienced concerning anything I have written, so the rest of the morning was spent slightly satisfied and a little smug.

Home, shop, car wash and clean followed by work and a call to Jamie who is Ill. Poor baby. Change all my plans for the weekend and decide to see granddad in hospital and pick up my parents from the airport instead.

I will go home and have a drink now I will not get to see my son tomorrow. But I will go to the library and type these very words instead.

I spoke to her today; she now sounds so near, talking about visiting St Andrews to see her old PHD tutor and also a trip to London. I can’t wait to see her, this time I will be on my best behaviour. Nothing but good memories if I can help it.

25th January

A good day, very well used. Woke early, some nightmares but nothing too sinister, got to school on time and went straight to it. Worked on the baseball bats all day. Stopped to discuss the Quran once more with Hammam. I said I would use a brass plaque instead of the Quran, Hammam said "Why censure yourself".

At lunch I fixed my wing mirror previously kicked off my car by local "Hoodies". Super glued all the pieces I could find back together and left to dry. I finished the first four bats and then cut out and glued the next three. Started to take step by step pictures of the process behind the making as I think it is worth noting and presenting back later in the form of a series of stills or a DVD maybe.

I had set my alarm for 3.30 to let me know when to leave. I finished the gluing and clamping of the last three bats and then cleaned up. I create so much debris and dust making these bats that my very good friendship with Dave the technician is being stretched to breaking point. Everything is left covered in a thick dust and there is little or no ventilation, essentially I am killing Dave slowly and he doesn’t like it.

As I stepped out of the building the alarm went off to tell me I should be leaving the building. The weekends events were now well behind me.

Home, work, home and dipping into "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" a book I had previously read whilst writing my Politics dissertation on the anarchist movement within the Spanish Civil War. So much time had elapsed since then and so much had happened in my life that I came to this work anew and fresh. I should have started earlier.

I put the book down and willed what little power I had left to help me watch the start of some film with Matt Damon in, playing a conjoined twin for laughs. The truth of which is that there were some laughs, although very juvenile.

24th January

Despite all of the staff at work being off, either sick or on holiday and me doing their jobs, coupled with another poor nights sleep, racked with nightmares about dwarfs trying to kill me and some other bizarre stuff, I managed to start the day at full throttle.

Hit the studio at 9 am and full of Americano was straight into the workshop and straight onto the baseball bats. Cutting, plaining and sanding all day. Early doors I caught the I.T guy (Paul) and collared him about my hard drive, by lunch it was fixed and I was back in business. At about 10am Hammam entered the workshop and I asked him what he would think If I covered the Quran in resin (resin came to mind when clearing up a mess left by Helen Kaplinski in the casting room) along with other significant texts that have been used for good and for bad (over simplification I know). He looked at me as he so often does, like I was an idiot. He would not like me to use it, he said. Adding "no one would see it anyway" a jibe at me if their ever was one.

I explained that the shortlist of books that would be put into resin on certain pages would be the following.

Mien Kampf
Das Kapital
The Bible
The Quaran
Sprak Zarathustra

I need to research more and read more thoughrouly before completing the list and so completing the baseball bat rack. I know what I am doing even if others don’t or don’t care.(no this is a crap idea)

Worked on the computer over lunch and then printed off images of my work for Simon Lewandowski. In the afternoon I finished in the workshop before returning home for a sandwich and then off to work.

23rd January
I’ve lost the plot now with this fucking blog. Before Christmas it was all so disciplined but since returning I have found it increasingly difficult to maintain the blog. However, the blog (“Practice in Context”) does now seem to go hand in hand with my actual practice, one influencing the other and vice-versa.

My practice is also taking a hit concerning the level of productivity. The plaster bullet is ready but John the technician is away all week and he needs to take me through the fibre glassing stage. My metal cast bullets are ready to cast but the equipment has failed. My computer work needs doing but my hard drive has given up the ghost, all that’s left for me is to read and to make baseball bats.

I carried out experiments using lazertran yesterday and decided that this was the way forward for now. The seven sins will be represented by seven baseball bats on a rack. What the rack will be constructed of I do not yet know. Books cast in resin or some such thing. The lazertran enables me to intricately decorate the baseball bats. Simon later told me of an artist he had seen over Christmas in Holland or Belgian. w Brian Jungen makes bats and also stencills words into them (more research is required) We also had a conversation about situation Leeds. I told him to check out the plaster bullet in the casting room.


Brian Jungen


I had a meeting this morning with the rest of the year. Just a catch up really. I think everyone is suffering the same winter blues. My blues have been made much worse by my own stupid behaviour.

I went to see my grandparents on Friday for my Grandmas birthday I then stayed with my parents and went out for a few sherbets with my dad. I got him talking about the pit and said I would have to record his memories before they had disappeared. He said I need my mum’s fathers as he worked underground before mechanisation.

“In a way it is even humiliating to watch coal miners working. It raises in you a momentary doubt about your own status as an intellectual and as a superior person generally. For it is brought home to you at least while you are watching, that it is only because miners sweet their guts out that superior persons can remain superior.” (29)

A statement that can be applied to almost all manual labourers.

My Grandfather goes in for an op next week; I do hope we get a chance to do it... I was pissed when we got home and still a little delicate in the morning when driving my parents to the airport in Liverpool. Following the airport trip I drove down the road into Liverpool itself to visit Rob and Linda. Rob was flush with a new job at a big up and coming internet company "Head of mobile communications" and all the money that comes with that sort of title. The Porsche 911 is already booked.

Rob and Linda married several years ago in NYC. I stayed over by myself after the wedding and once I had done most of the museums and galleries as well as going to a game at The Garden, I ended up in a bar drinking with some guy who worked on the set of “The Soprano’s”. The following morning I was trying to walk off my hangover in the Park when it started to rain heavily. I ran out of the park across the street and into the Guggenheim, which I had yet to visit. This was my introduction to the “Chremaster Cycles” by Mathew Barney.


“Barnys visual language is Protean: drawing and film unite to engender photography and sculpture, which in turn produce more drawing and film, in an incestuous intermingling of materials that defies any hierarchy of artistic mediums.” (30)
.
Barny's show had a profound influence over my practice. Whilst not dealing with the same or even similar subject matter, I never the less found his method of working and displaying incredibly interesting. Witnessing the show inside the Guggenheim made me realise the importance of the building or environment in which the work is situated effecting how the viewer approaches and reads the work. I also found the grandly theatrical nature of the show very appetising, placing the viewer inside the work. The disused church (St Marks) is therefore an integral part of my work. The Phenomenological experience of encountering the repeated casts inside the Church and what this means to each individual viewer. The Social/ institutional is about the congregation or the lack of. The local community as part of wider society or individual constituent. The discursive element asks questions about faith, science, hierarchies of power and belief. What is the piece saying? Greenberg would have classed it as “Theatre” and not art. But this does not bother me.

Rob and Linda had guests staying and nagged me to stay also. After several hours I gave in. A quick trip to the pub to watch the Hammers was followed by their guest’s arrival, introductions dinner and then the other. By the time the Ricky Hatton fight had come on I had lost my sight and was only conscious of someone’s breath on my neck throughout the night until 7 in the morning. I woke the following afternoon, confused and somewhat distressed. I placed on my shoes, thanked my hosts and glided back across the Pennines, a nice trip if not a little dangerous at points. I sorted the house out and then went down the pub to watch the Arsenal Man U game. Great game and I needed the drink to quieten my mind. I went home and slept roughly until the following morning.

Fuck me! My mouth was in shreds and blisters and I could hardly open it for the self induced grinding lock jaw. My ears now rang and fizzed making me dizzy and after some thought remembered that breath on my neck all of Saturday night and Sunday morning, realizing it had been produced by the stereo speaker sat directly behind my head, relentlessly pumping out hard house (not my cup of tea really).

The next two days would be spent in some kind of physical and mental turmoil. Not knowing what to eat, when to eat or weather I could eat. Not sleeping but when I did, having nightmares.
Not waking but when I did, doing so too late or far too early. I will spend the next weeks trying to sweet it out a little ready for her arrival from Hong Kong.

“Only the pervasive fantasy can still save us”

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(29) George Orwell “The roar to Wigan Pier” pp31 (30) Mathew Barny’s “Cremaster Cycles” pp1

Wednesday 17 January
Shit! has it been that long since I last signed in to the blog? Anyway here’s a summery of the events of my life and work since the last post. The two weeks before Christmas were a non stop blur of working three jobs. Van driver by day toilet cleaner by evening and parcel thrower by night (stop if you've heard this before). The guys at parcel force were a friendly bunch. I have since had contact with a Zimbabwean called Admore, sound chap.

Went out with Jake and joy on the Friday before Christmas after finishing work. Good night out, I woke to find Nathan and Hung (his new Vietnamese wife) sat downstairs fresh from the airport. She was here to see Nathan’s step dad as he was now not long for this world. Top bloke in his late forties dieing of bowl cancer.

Myself and Nathan had fallen out a number of times over the two things that men fall out over, but each time we forgave and forget. Now we just prod each other with light verbal barbs.

Christmas Eve, went for a drink with the old man, he’s getting old, and 3 pints is now his limit. Christmas day was nice but stressful. So many family members so many problem cases including myself. We all gathered around at my sister’s house. The most normal person in the family. She has a lovely old farm house in a quite part of Cheshire so there is room for everyone to stay out of each others way.

My cousin arrived with her Pakistani husband (who is already married) whom she had left once this year and told us all how terrible he was. Still it was all a vast improvement on the previous year (two houses got torched - long storey) My grandfather continued to tell everyone about all the people who had died before him. He won’t be happy until he’s beaten us all. My grandmother continued to make faces behind his back and no one spoke of my third aunt who will not come up at Christmas due to the argument I have caused. Still, a fun day. I got to speak to Jamie and wish him all the best and that was all that mattered to me.

Mooched, and worked occasionally between Christmas and New Year. Had Jamie for three days up to New Years Eve. We had a great time. Opened Christmas presents spent time playing with my sisters boys went to the cinema had Chinese, watched DVDs and just chilled.

New Year’s eve I returned home at 9.30 got changed and headed to Mark and Tracy’s where everyone was already, mashed. I started to tan the lagers and vodka and Red Bulls. Not a bad night and not to expensive for New Years Eve. The following morning I got up and walked the 6 miles to Marks house to retrieve the car only to return and get a call from Alex asking for a lift back there to retrieve his wallet. My teeth still hurt from all the Red Bull.

I returned to the studio on the 2nd and started to potter. I found it immensely difficult to get back into the flow and in fact it was not until half way through last week that I started to make any impact on my practice.

I managed to get the plaster bullet cut on the wheel that I had constructed in the casting room. I spoke with Mat Ward, the university Chaplin who paid a flying visit and also spoke to David Calder and then Peter Mojsa of the Diocese. I have since sent emails to the development firm who will be making the purchase of St Marks and hopefully will get a response shortly.

Yesterday was the half year review and Emma and Richard seemed very positive especially about the large plaster bullets. Richard had some great ideas and we talked about how the bullets would be situated. Emma also made some positive comments about my practice in context work. I was very pleased by the end of the day. Lots more work to do though.

Work last night and a good chat with the new porter Lawrence. A Zimbabwean starting a Business masters in September. We talked politics and about his experiences in the UK. I think I was the first person in over two weeks of him working in the building to ask where he was from and show an interest. I am sure the other staff just see a black man and then shut off. After all, Africans are Africans, right?

Monday 18th December
I haven’t written anything for a couple of weeks as I have been very busy working three Joe jobs. Term finished on the 9th, I think, but I started some driving work the week before and quickly got the night shift at parcel force Sundays till Thursdays and I am still cleaning in the afternoons. Same again this week, a couple days of driving each day, evenings every day as well as nights. Still, should pay for Christmas and a few weeks after.


Went to St Marks today to see the church with David Calder the rev in charge. What a great space, Rona came with me and we are both very interested in using the church for both the degree show and more importantly situation Leeds. Rona would utilize the inside and I would go out into the grave yard, I think. We now need to contact the diocese of Ripon about potential purchase dates. Electric is good, running water should be ok but we may need to bring in our own toilets.

Lots to think about but very positive.

December 7th
Long, long day yesterday that bled into today.

Spent the morning following the same routine, library, studio, work. I produced a number of silicone moulds for the bullets as well as downloading images of M16 magazines and trying out some cardboard box designs to hold Soap bullets in.

I had a meeting with the show committee and Kerry Harker that was very useful, and Kerry seemed to know that I had submitted a proposal for Situation Leeds.

I went to the Odeon cinema in the afternoon to do a risk assessment, it failed. Did some food shopping went to work, came home for an hour and then went back out to work at Parcel Force van depot loading vans from ten o’clock last night until 8 this morning. A great way to loose weight.

Wednesday December 6th
After being in the library and catching up with my emails I went straight to the studio. Dave was in and I showed him my news clipping from Liverpool where me and Rob had attempted to steel a Banksy, all in the name of art of course. Dave thought it was hilarious.

Spoke to Pete about doing a risk assessment on the cinema in town and we arranged to meet the owners at 2.15 on Thursday. Fran spoke to the owners and I arranged to meet her there and go to the appointment the next morning at 10.

I finished shaping the polystyrene in the morning and then spent the afternoon making more moulds of bullets out of Vina-mould. No sooner had I finished with the Vina-mould than Dave gave me a bullet he had coated in latex resin. The finish on the wax once dried in the resin mould was far cleaner than the Vina-mould finish. I shall follow this line and start producing a couple of moulds a day.




Dave invited me to make some products for the artists book fair in June. I shall make soap bullets and place them in boxes that look like ammo clips. Ak47 and M16 two different product lines. Clean up with soap bullets. Wash your hands with "diplomacy" the new soap from ----- who knows? If I have the time.

Work was followed by some drinking with Alex in the Britannia and then the Imperial. The Imperial will be our local as it is much more relaxed.

December 3rd, 4th & 5th

Spent the last couple of days driving for TNT/ NHS direct in the day. Delivering nappies to old peoples homes, wipes to the mentally ill and tinned food to convicts. At night I turn into cleaning man and mop up shit -covered ladies toilets. Thanks Dino Rod.

I did have a group crit on Monday and managed to attend for part of it between jobs. Emma was not very happy with me as I "hadn’t prepared". But how can you prepare for something that you were not expecting to be able to attend. I don’t think Richard passed on my email. Never mind.

December 2nd
I spent Friday working closely with John. He has guided me through the various steps of creating the large scale bullets and we seemed to make some real progress due to the lack of other students bothering him for loans and such. Most students must have been hung-over from the show which opened the night before in the dark arches.



I finished the blade, built a frame and attached it with the turntable to a wall in the casting room. I rapped the polystyrene in a blue cloth to enable the plaster to stick to the surface. I also built a tray to go underneath so as to catch as much of the falling plaster as possible.

At 2.30 I did a shop ready for Jamie’s birthday weekend and then met a couple of the girls from my year at the old Odeon in the Merion centre.

Its funny but my ideas have been reignited by this space and I have now Formed a strong inclination toward the projection room at the back of the auditorium.


After work I sat and watched the power of Art. This week was Simon Schammas telling of Guernica. Fantastic I thought, I never had much time for Picasso's preening. OK I enjoyed his Cock sculptures at the Mait foundation in the south of France a few years ago but was never really a fan of his paintings, except for Guernica. All pretensions left behind, a modernist work of art history painting that captured the terrible nature of mankind.(so said Schama)

Over the weekend and after James birthday visit on Saturday I would mull over Guernica and delve back into my love of war artists such as Nash, much to my satisfaction.