This morning Miss Dover and I managed our first visit to the studio in quite a while. This was an event made even more momentous by the toing and froing involved in reaching our destination. My day had already been set off kilter by an argument about the bins. Apparently bins which we have been using for five months now do not belong to our flat but rather to the hairdressers below a service that they pay hundreds of pounds for. I was accused of filling there bins with my rubbish. I pointed out that at most I produce one small bg of rubbish a week and that perhaps the brimful bins may have resulted from the shadowy graphic design agency that sits between us on the first floor. The upshot of this is we have no bins. Nor will we be getting any in the near future. A telephone call to the council revealed that they do not provide bins on our street. If we are lucky we will receive an orange sack. I look forward to it. Anyway this news upset us so much that we both forgot vital materials that needed to be transported to the studio forcing us into a dreaded return trip. I never like going back, it seems such a waste. Nevertheless we eventually made it and while Miss Dover settled down to some painting I set about prising up the foam that had adhered itself so permanently to every surface of my studio (and mopping up the puddle at its centre) I have recorded some of the morning’s work, presented below, although I forgot my camera and was forced to use my phone. The last is my first test of the dvds for Pearlville it is proving to be a cacophonic experience. But technically all went well.
Night Soil
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