Yours Testily
Hi Alex,
I’m afraid the designers still aren’t happy with this size, they really need something to the spec below. Do you think it is possible to get this to us as soon as you can? Our deadline for getting all the images together is this weekend – apologies for the urgency.
Best
Kate
I am exhausted. Lethargy holds me gently on the sofa I only attempt to break her grasp when I can hold on to my bowels no longer. The illness which beset both myself and my dear companion last night lingers, a deadly sweat was upon us all last night. We both feel drained and listless. The above email found me in poor humour this morning. The image I had sent was admittedly only a mere 72dpi but was nearly a metre wide which I thought would do. Stubbornly I resized it to A6 at a higher dpi and testily sent it back with a message suggesting that any graphic designer worth his or her salt could do this for themselves. I fully expect it to be printed upside down with a secret message stating my resemblance to the rear end of a horse. This would not upset me but I do hope I did not upset Miss Phillimore.
Sickness
Ebb tide in appetite- cannot eat, cannot sleep, diary is all that is left to me. My companion and I have been struck down with an ague or is it a pox? I know no more than we make frequent, and lately unproductive, visits to the bathroom while feeling vague and listless. A bath is drawn next door but neither feels the inclination to take it. Outside the town’s revelry has begun with the usual shouts, catcalls and musical abrasions that punctuate a Friday night in the centre of Ipswich. My companion, more productive than I, is replying to letters from siblings. She as a large number, sisters all, of which I have met three.
Gutteral cackling in the street below, low and menacing.
In my weakened state I am finding concentration difficult. Unable to settle to any task I have left letters unanswered, emails unread. Earlier I set down a list of ‘things to do’ but with little conviction. Not on the list were the vexed issue of my sideburns. I have decided to apply a little rigour to them for my visit to the opening weekend of the biennale. I have determined that the best course of action is to choose an image from one of Mr Cushing’s vampire films and to scientifically and painstakingly reproduce his sideburns in living bristle. Perhaps I have said this before?
Trot of heels, steady and regular.
Some time later.
Deleria
Fire ants swarm over my body. Deep in the left ear something dark and heavy broods. My companion is raving. She thinks we may be haemophiliacs but I think she means hypochondriacs.
She is recalling a haemophiliac boy at her school with blood red hair. He used to stab his hand with a compass to avoid geography tests.
Heavy beat from a passing car
Must sleep
Thursday, 3 June 2010
Homewards on the Ipswich Flyer
We are travelling back to Ipswich 3rd class. A necessity brought on by overcrowding on the 7o’clock train. Both my companion (who is knitting a rather bad scarf) and I are perspiring slightly after being forced to run a brisk 400 yards past all the (empty) first class carriages. Monika passed over a large wheeled case at the café. Business done we had a pleasant chat about cats, holidays and the next series of shows to be held at her gallery on Cambridge Heath Road “Stardust Boogie Woogie”. Following this we made a brief visit to an art suppliers and then went on to see Rachel Harrison’s exhibition at the Whitechapel. Upon entering we were accosted by a gang of hired barkeeps who insisted we drink bourbon. I do not know if this was meant to improve our experience but to my mind the installation of colourful anthills and tat was joyful enough not to need any artificial enhancement.
It has come to a point where preparations must be made. Numerous requests are arriving from the Biennale team. Mainly they are to do with publicity and the low resolution of my images. It is a perennial problem as screen shots from my video work never seem to be enough for print. I constantly tell myself I must take documentary photographs but my memory was never good. I have recently sought to correct this laxity by purchasing a new high definition video camera which also takes decent still images. I did think perhaps I should have done this before filming ‘Call’ but on first trying the camera I find the image cold and unfriendly. Nevertheless I have put aside my Luddite leanings and yesterday I made a short film of a scrolling starscape.
On what must be the hottest day my companion and I are dragging our tired limbs around the east end galleries. Truthfully we are sitting in the Café Hurwundeki knitting and watching an artist talk about himself. He has managed a quarter of an hour without breath and is now holding forth on how difficult it is when someone one doesn’t like is a fan of one’s work. We are waiting for Monika Bobinska who has been desperate for me to take back my work for some time now. I had been putting off it’s collection on no particular pretext other than an unwillingness to drag a wheeled case across London. We have seen a couple of shows. Neither of us have been particularly thrilled however and we had to leave Cell Project space in haste when my companion had a fit of the vapours. She is in a strange state of mind at the moment, nervous and distracted. That eminent artist, not put off by her Parisian avoidance tactics, is now frantic to meet her and I assume paint her. He has sent a message via an intermediary stating he is willing to “pay over the odds” for the pleasure.
