Never ever EVER cold cold turkey from antidepressants, it isn’t clever. I have been stumbling around like the denizens of the Norwich road: eyes pointing in various directions, speech slurred, bowels uncertain. Indeed I have begun to feel a certain camaraderie with my neighbours from down the hill. I have to say my general appearance was not helped by the spayed cat haircut I had received from Annabel, if ever anyone looked like they had just been through a short course of ECT it was me. Anyway this has passed now and tomorrow I am to head to London to view a venue for a show in Haggerston. It is in a Penthouse apartment where Monika plans to let me loose with industrial amounts of expanding foam. I don’t think she realises just how sticky it is. I shall explain tomorrow.
The show at Exeter Phoenix went very well. We stayed in a lovely Thistle hotel near the gallery where we were very excited to hear that it had once been a women’s prison and that the unfortunate had been hung on the site of the flagpole in the carpark to the front. It was a hot day but the hotel, as is usual with all such eco friendly establishments, was far hotter. It was so hot indeed that, the next day, all the members of the Wilmore House group declared that they had spent the night “in the nud” with the blankets on the floor and the windows flung open to their maximum 9 inches. Poor Matt had far too much work to cram in and did a lovely job making it all look so balanced. He had been sponsored by a rum importer and so we were never far from stormy weather.
Next we head to Manchester for a short sharp show at Rogue.
Here in Ipswich I am thinking of opening a gallery. It will be called Sklep.
