Woohoo - half day off - so let's ....
do another line drawing of myself ... (?)
Still thinking about THE BATH PRIZE - had to submit the application form this week and within I had to write the dreaded 'Artist's Statement', the perennial and apparently necessary concoction of very long words that don't really go together in an attempt to justify the artwork whilst also making the artist sound really intelligent. I blathered on about why I write on the paintings to 'involve the viewer in the experience of the painting' (ha ha - pretty good huh?). It occurs to me now as I walk into town to set up that I am once again in a foul mood and the reality of being in my head in a 'Being John Malkovich' kind of stylee would not enhance anyone's viewing pleasure of the painting.
Grump grump. I can't finish the rubbish painting I started last week because the spot I was standing on is now the property of an even more grumpy than me shop front decorator.
Grump grump. I think about just going home and not bothering, but what the hell, let's go and paint Pulteney Bridge again.
The sun comes out and then goes in, comes out and then stays in. This suits me as I think I like the grey.
Another fly crashes into the painting, but this one is in trouble as he landed on a sticky bit and got his big skinny body all stuck. He struggles in vane to escape. Maybe my painting was so good that he thought he had loads of space before he would reach the bridge and then whammo! he's encased in titanium white.
WA HA HA! I am a cruel and pitiless god and I let him suffer. WA HA HA! And then I feel guilty so I flick him off with my brush, which doesn't really help him - he's too far gone - but at least I can finish the bit of painting he was on.
There's some of that green stuff again poking in on the right. Ha - not having any of that ruining my painting and I do it all greyish. A bit of yellow gets through relatively unmixed, but I leave it - kind of wild I know, but that's just the way I roll.
A couple of months ago I got a letter from a sinister covert government agency - The BIOBANK. (So, putting their details on the letter wasn't that covert, but it just shows how sinister they really are - clever maybe, but it didn't fool me). They wanted me (and half a million other people) to donate their bodies to medical research. (See - pretty sinister or what?). I quickly realised that the only way to burst this festering pustule of corruption wide open was from the inside and with that I signed up, sent off the form and thought no more about it.
Two months and some other bits of time later and here I am, standing outside the lab, cleverly disguised as an unused office block (the lab, not me) right next to a sandwich bar and the Tesco metro. (clever, very clever, but I guess undercover evil government agents have to eat too.) I do a quick sketch of the place - just in case I never come out (of course, if I don't come out then the sketch is unlikely to make it out on it's own, but let's not let common sense get in the way of a good diverting fantasy). I've got my best pants on and I've cut my toenails - bring it on ...
As soon as I get inside they start with the tests - I'm pretty hopeful I will get selected for the experimental drug that will turn me into a super soldier as everyone else has got to be over 60. All I need to do is perform on the tests and I'm a sho in and then we'll see who's laughing when I bring this crazy madhouse tumbling down.
There's a series of questions which seem innocent enough until I stumble across the 'bald' question. Aha! Just as I thought - a surreptitious selection process is at work here - and they are obviously looking for the follically challenged - I knew it would be an advantage eventually.
I ask them where the secret lab is (knowing that there's hundred's of floors below this one full of failed experiments), but the operative just laughs and says if he told me, it wouldn't be secret. (clever, very clever - but I know the truth.)
Damn - I fail on the pairs test - It's all going well until the last four cards and then I click everything randomly and I'm done for.
Still - there's always the urine, mid-flow, test as they cruelly force you to cut the wee off after you've started, get just the right amount in the cup, stop again (?!) and carry on in the loo. Can't see all the other elderly subjects managing this one. I can do it, I can do it - yes success - but wait, there's not enough in the cup! And it's all too late as there's nothing left. I've blown it.
That's it. Time to go, just the sop at the end of the free cup of coffee and a ....
They smile at me as I leave (they all smile, all of the time - even more sinisteriness), but I'm not expecting the call back or the abduction by armed swat team in the middle of the night. I guess I will have to leave their demise to some other agent of justice.