“You look like you’re havin’ pure fun.”
A fella says he’s been meaning to ask what I’m doing, people have been doing. I tell him there’s only been me doing and he say’s nah there was a half caste guy here the other day. I tell him that’s news to me.
Children having a go with the remote control digger. I watch them use the wire to pull the digger back rather than the reverse lever. So that’s something to be aware of, not that I can do much about it. The other thing is; whilst one child’s playing the other wants to play. Creative conflict. I’m in a shop buying re-chargeable batteries for the digger and one of the kids who’ve been playing with it says “There’s the artist.”
A young girl asked “Is that where you live?”. My immediate thought was ‘In the shop’ then thought she means in the tent tunnel wigwam ‘thing’.
Old school technology givin’ me a hard time. Trying to put a one hour loop of a sample from The Great Escape on to VHS to make an 8 hour tape but no joy. Maybe today.
I bought one of those trolleys car mechanics use for working under cars.
A Dad asked if he could buy a digger.
Are you doing jankers?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jankers
The nextdoor neighbour from the newsagent having another go. Looking into the shop saying you can’t see anything, (I don’t understand, there is ‘something’ in the shop, a visible thing) saying no more people coming into St. Johns. In the middle of our conversation/debate/argument he walks off to talk to someone else, rude.
Went to see Marina Abramovic presents (Dedicated to Tehching Hsieh) last night at the Whitworth, part of Manchester International Festival 09.
The other day eating my bacon butty from Galloways on the corner of St. Johns I watched the street cleaner cleaning the street in front of me. Using a grabber he was picking up other peoples discarded cigarette ends. He reached, squeezed, squeezed, squeezed again. One particular butt was proving to be particularly elusive and he kept on trying, I was thinking it’s got to be easier to pick it up (he’s wearing gloves). Finally, success. I go back to my butty. A couple minutes later I look down the street and I see cigarette butts, here and there. Quantum physics in action; me watching changed his behaviour. He could sense I was watching and didn’t want to give up, didn’t want me to witness him thinking ‘fuck it’ but once he’d succeeded and we were both satisfied the heat was off.
Can any female performance artist out there explain the prevalence of nakedness in female performance for me?
A man played with the remote control digger. I’ve set it up so that with the controls as close to the door as possible it would be impossible to knock the tunnel over. The man moved the empty rolls of tape around, against each other. Amusement arcade.
I’ve changed my mind, now I think I’ll make it so the tunnel can be knocked down by the remote controlled digger, more poignant.
Alex was awarded with a certificated for staying the full four hours at the Whitworth; I left at 22.40 and received no certificate.
