The Undertones - My Perfect Cousin

Kev MaCloud in m pub! bang out of order

Night not wasted

Though I couldnt attend events tonight I did spot Kevin in the pub next door. The aftermath of the anti Tesco chat had dispersed. Popped in to say hello. Kev Macker, local hero of gross designs but not a bad fella. I knew him from Neil Wilkins glass studio where he got components made for his lighting design firm before his TV work took off. Good that he still swings his influence in the area. Its all celebs round here, I tell ya, Kev MaCloud in the pub next door, Johnny Depp has bought Orchardleigh and goes down the Archangel, that bird Pearl Lowe and her Supergrass drummer hubby down the road on my walk to work, her daughter Daisy and the fella who plays Dr Who are all here.

Missed Oportunities

I couldnt get down to Wells to see Sonja Klinglers 'Blood out of Stone' in her exhibition. It clashed with the town meeting to stop Tesco coming to Frome, an ndependent town, why do you think we live here? For lack of franchises, independent record shops, 'Raves from the Grave', coffee shops that bare no brand, even a real coffee, egg and beans cafe that hasn't changed since the 60s, 'The Market Cross Cafe'. Saxonvale developement is innevitable though I would love to see its dereliction preserved, rubble, broken buildings gradually being over grown by nature. Fromes central town 'Edgeland'.

Gates and Chimney

Get some perspective.

Fox attack

Fox came while tex was away and killed several chickens, mid afternoon. Mags birds. Turn the shed in to a fox trap and shoot the bastard. Heard that Mo captured a chicken killing fox that was killing his birds. He called his mate who brought the shotgun. Took the lower jaw and a bit of neck off the fox. He only brought one cartridge. Had to go back for another. How do you kill a fox quickly? cricket bat maybe, I don't know. Feel for my freind and the birds he raised.

Grounded

Cant seem to get my videos up on my blog

Skree and Tex go back to work

After the journey North and all the fallout it was a pleasure to walk to work today. When not in motion little progress is made, the Devil makes work for idle hands. Caught up with some who stayed in the area to go to the pop festival. It is getting even worse by all accounts. Getting from zone to zone requires queing and identification. That Brighton lot whos' structures are magnificent, a wonder to behold, require the right style of dress. Now dress codes have been the bane of my life. Be it travellers frowning on you for being too smart, not wearing a hippy uniform to nightclubs that have inspectors of cool outside to posh do's where the cut of my day suit was miss timed or my tuxedo worn too early. All this elitist bollocks helps expand nothing, it constricts, reduces, spoils. Judge a man by the blook in his eye, not by the cut of his jib nor colour of his skin. This cliquery is akin to raccism. What made Glastonbury worthwhile was the brushing of shoulders with people from tribes you would never meet otherwise. Thirty years ago a tory wouldnt have been seen dead at Glastonbury.

Fuck me this vids taking ages to upload. I could whistle or type on. I'll smoke a little, that great time filler that ultimately reduces your time, its the next 5 you want through yet the 5 at the end each smoke takes away, not even punctuation these days. Cigarrettes were my fullstops in the conversation that was my day, buisness meetings; subconsciously you single out those you feel kinship with then when a break comes all those get up to go for a smoke. Is it a disregard for ones own well being? A negative outlook shared? A disregard for longevity over enjoyment in the moment? Or just fear.

Edgelands

It feels both unnerving and slightly upsetting that Paul Farley and Michael Symmons Roberts book Edgelands makes such an impact when Skreeworld blog has bringing both photographic and poetic observations from the same place for a long time now. The book is great and a must read for anyone who has visitted Skreeworld these last few years. I take my hat off to them though envy their connections. After percevering with this blog that, though digressive in to the personal journey through this space I am proud their book is recieving deserved attention.

Habitat go in to administration/ Fellows

The debate about Habitat going in to administration may well be down to how we now consume furniture. Since the internet many have chosen to download music rather than buy CDs though the vinyl rennaisance had its' nostalgic moment HMV has sold off its' Canadian operation to focus on Britain and Ireland. Much of Sebastian Fellows work is now only available by download, this has allowed him more time to focus on his art and design, freeing him up from the painstaking manufacturing proccesses, (thogh many will remember, from his early works, he was and still is a superb craftsman). The CNC equipment, now virtually obsolete retains a nostalgic charm, like the horse in the age of the motor car, certain Fellows pieces are still produced in this manner. I, for one, can't remember the last time I bought a chair in a shop when the click of a mouse brings comfort straight to ones living room. The bold yet luddite attempts to halt this trend through exhibition and commission are fighting the innevitable route of evolution.

Jason Feddy at Hebden Bridge

Maybe it is because sound comes first, our perception of sound has greater distance, maybe that is why music makes you cry more than art. Not that it matters but I am a designer; a visual artist at best.
I've been there before, Hebden Bridge Trades Club. I sat alone and listened to Jason and Patsy Matheson. They took me on a journey. Her songs were delicate observations, Feddys' too. Some I had heard before yet never had explained and despite what many would have you believe, little is understood through common sense alone. Felt maybe, not understood though. Even durinfg emotional pieces my history took over. We were a bunch of broken buiscits. I hear Jasons songs and theyt are the voice of someone who bridged a transition in my life from the shattered middle school mess to high school. We met on estates, edgelands, wooded areas between the two. He knows me, knows why I am what I am and I too know some of his fragile corners. He has achieved a wonderful thing. He picked up a guitar as puberty broke and never put it down. There are chunks of genius, aptitude and a fuck of a lot of hard work. His recent Shakespeares Fool project is the stuff of once in a lifetime stumbling upon. Great ideas dont just come to you on the bus they are the product of years of thought, they may hit you on the bus but only because of the last ten, twenty years musing. He entranced a diverse body of people with a magic I will never know and I don't think he was even in the mood. Jason is a rare talent and he wont always unleash it,  dont blame him. There were a good five people I can thnk of who should have been there. They took their choice and they missed something special.
As I drove through the night, getting as far away from where we met as I could, I think I saw a new fire in his belly that night.

Back in Somerset

After the magical night in Hebden Bridge that I have yet to describe, I drove through the night which seemed swift. I didn't feel tired and had a load of information to disassemble. First thing I did, as the day awoke to birdsong was take Tex for a walk. I love the world before 'they' are up though usually see it from the previous day, not being an early riser. I thought about dogs, something I have thought about a lot these last ten years. Dogs and owners and wha thy make them. There are the odd genetic psycho dogs but most of it is owners. For five years I walked Tex 5 miles, now he is older and only needs short walks. He has never bitten anyone. He is the best part of me.

I heard my friends had dragged the body of a Tory politician from a portaloo at Glastonbury where he had died from a cocaine induced heart attack.

Devo Print

Richard revisit

n need of rest I drove to Richards grave and slept 6 feet above him for a while. Quite what passers by thought of a tramp, unconscious in the green area of Lawnswood Cemetry I don't know or care. My Mothers ashes are there somewhere too, Richards Dad, John, my Grandma, many other lost ones. I slept in peace though still woke unrested.

Their Angels must have been watching me. I pulled up at some traffic lights. I woke with a gap some 7 cars length before me to the green light. I came alert and drove on but two police cars pulled me over. I had drunk one can of beer though was exhausted. I shouldnt have been on the road yet I had weighed up the need to see my Dad, Mother and Richard and took a decision. The copper asked if the car was mine, if I had been drinking, he called for a breathaliser kit. Then someone, something intervened. He told me to leave the car and walk. I don't condone my actions yet I really shouldn't have got away with that.

Bewildered, I grabbed my bags and staggered back to where I was staying.

The day ended and I slept.

In the morning Devo had been attacked. He'd gone to say good night to the Machines dog and it lept at his face, severely scarring him. He couldnt sleep. The dog had never shown dislike.

I know why, I have brought up dogs but I won't say owt. Some dogs need 5 mile walks a day and all dogs need interaction with their own kind.

Fed turned up in to this mess. Devo and The Machine were poisoned and ill so we snucck off for breakfast.

The sad part was they had both really wanted to see Feddy, when I had arrived I was overwhelmed by their love. Perhaps the dog issue needed discussing. Well it does. That could have been a child or a weaker woman. I don't often speak out but that dog needs serious training or the future holds a worse story.

Neither Devo Nor his brother were well enough to come to Hebden Bridrge to see Feddy play. That desrves a seperate posting.

The Lift

I was diappointing at my Dads. Lack of sleep and a battered brain prevented any good performance from me. But just to see he is ok is good. I never get it all right, the variety of people I have to see preclude giving my best to all and I so dearly would have loved to have been in better condition for my Dad.

Seacroft

After dancing naked in the rain it was time to go see my dad, the Seacroft blocks of flats still bare these art details, minimal architecture speckled with concrete anf tyle works.

Deviance

I hit the north where Albert Hoffmans influence was afoot. Exhaustion from driving left me the only option of drink so I drank all night as reality distorted. Had a high point walking on a ,mission in the rain to the all night offy. Those moments are few these days and Leeds was my home again.

We didn't sleep and this truly memorable night drifted in to a strange day. Good to see my brothers.

Socks and Drain

look after me tommorrow 

Cone pierces Cone

Component for the artist Sonja Klingler for a piece called 'Blood Out of Stone'. Hope she don't mind this sneaky picof my component for her vision.

Underside corner of repaired 'Gridlock 2'

Galliano could face jail

British fashion designer John Galliano said he remembers nothing of the night he allegedly launched into an anti semitic, raccist tirade in a Paris bar. A French court heard his triple addiction to alcohol, sleepers and diazepam blotted all memory, true perhaps but little consolation to those on the sharp end. He claims the pressures of his work have pushed him to the edge. Galliano is a bit of a falling star in France where after his sacking from his job as creative director of Paris fashion house Dior. He is clearly addressing his addictions though such mitigation does not negate the crime.

Ai freed after 81 days

Chinas most well known artist, Ai Weiwei was home last night. The brave man looked broken, thin, tired. He was free because he confessed to his 'crimes' of tax evation. The dozens of other artiss that are less well known, less supported by the international artworld remain in detention. The one visit his wife was permitted saw a man confused, mentally conflicted. 81 days in custody is enough to break the spirit of any man. Many question why Ai chose to return from New York to his native country knowing that something like this was inneviteable. Perhaps the motive was a Christlike voluntary arrest to fulfill a prewritten story.
'His detention was political and his release political. It is the result of a huge domestic and international outcry that forced the government to this resolution...I think Beijing realised how damaging it was to hold Chinas' most famous artist in detention'. Nicholas Bequelin.
Our fears and pressure should not stop until Ais 4 associates are released too, Wen Tao, Zhang Jinsong, Hu Mingfen and Liu Zhenggang.

Mythology

It is certainly fascinating how history developes, grows, evolves, changes shape. Watched 'The Fighter' tonight, Micky Wards story of rise from journeyman, stepping stone boxer to world champ and his brother, Dicky who famously floored Sugar Ray Leonard though many say he slipped. Dicky subsequently descends in to crack addiction before jail reforms him to help his brother achieve world championship over Sean Neary in Liverpool. This is true though Micky Ward is truly much more than this film tries to show. His two battles with Arturo Gotti were legendery battles. Micky reverted to his brawling at many times though boxing skills are necessary to last through contests of that dimension. I lodged with a Norwegian guy for a while where professional boxing is not allowed around the time of the great period of super middle weight British boxing, Chris Eubank, Nigel Benn and Michael Watson. He was apalled that as a nation we saw this as sport. I can kind of understand yet it is also the purest of sports. One man against another in a contest that tests intelligence on many levels from speed, intuition, observation, pure fitness and the desire to win. I love the sport though hate what has happened to its' promotion. Rugby League, the greatest game of all has suffered too. Yet the product, once you have cast aside the distractions is superior to any other sport. Football is a terrible example for any young man, money, faked injury, disloyalty. Rugby Union the apartheid of sport where any player that so much as looked at the northern game was banned for life is disgusting at every level. Biggotry of class and eveything you can imagine.

HBO Boxing: Fights of the Decade - Ward vs. Gatti I (HBO)

Why Ward and Gatti are legends, forget the film.

Arturo Gatti vs Ward greatest fight of all time inspirationa

Just watched 'The Fighter', film about Mickey Ward. It builds up to his title fight in Liverpool against Neary though the real reason for Mickey Wards legend was the two Arturo Gatti fights.

Fellows Update

I bumped in to Sebastian the other day and mentioned that I was on the same forum as Adrian, his younger brother. He asked me to pass on best wishes, I know things have been a lttle fraught since Sebastians civil partnership,  believ their father refused to even atend. As most know Sebastian not only designs furniture but gardens too. He is having problems with his entry fo this years Chelsea flower show. Sebastians 'Fun Guy' garden comprising of over 300,000 stink horns or phallus impudicous to give the fungi its' latin name; the stinking mucus that coats the head of the toadstool attracts flies and bthis dark work that refers to the 1980s Gay Freedom era and questions our perceptions of sexuallity may be ruled out of the show. It's glory that I have been fortunate in having a hand in creating is like a mass rave of dark depravity yet may be excluded from contention. After the 'Floral Imorrall' works the organisers had expexted a more uplifting, less smelly work. Anyway, he sends his best to Adrian and hopes that his partner and legendary snooker star Neal shall be let in to the family Fould.
One can't help but feel that Fellows 'Fun 'Guy' garden is in some way an angry work that expresses he pain of social rejection and is as personal as it is political. There is, I elieve a Facebook campaign page to pressure Chelsea organisers to show this masterwork of thought and feeling. Arguably the morrality of Richard Mays Lego garden at last years show was permissiveness too far. Celebrity gardener Alan Titchmarsh, that writer of steamy novels has expressed his opposition to Fellows 'Fun Guy' garden and this has an overbaring influence on the organisers, his argument is that the piece is conceptual art and sould be shown in a different arena entirely. Fellows trademark is the breakig down of boundaries. 300,000 Stink Horns would steal the show and, I beliewve reveal the shallow pitch of Titchmarshes own work.
I also tackled Fellows on the contentious hellicopter incident that marred this years 'Secret Gathering'. His apologies were profuse and heartfelt. I sincerely believe, in his world, the choice of craft for travel is not hindered by finance and if he had thought it would appear in any way arogant he would have travelled by conventional meens. In truth, he had no option; the balloon he had intended to use had been saboutaged, slashed and pierced by, well, lets just say certain jealous mainstream forum members. More worryingly, his parachute straps had been severed. His private forensics team found no DNA yet small particles of india oilstone and parrafin suggest a woodworker of the old school, the contemporary authodoxy being waterstones, was responsible. It would be premature to point the finger at any suspected purpetrator of such a Savage act.
Fellows has more work on the go though please support 'Fun Guy', this garden of no flowers yet a stinking beauty is syre fire to expand the envelope odf gardening.

Trust all the wrong People

Leant one camera to Si who must have sold it along with a memory card that contains valued and personal pictures. I leant out my best one and thats beem pawned

Dead Ted

The best works are often just found. This shot, this piece brought tears to my eyes. It reminded me of Angus Fairhursts' work yet it heald something of its' own. Like a lost childs glove left to be reclaimed this beheaded, black, scorched teddy bear torso had been left for someone to find. Me I think. I'll take it as one of my works.

Beauty in Bath

The other night I was looking for an image to capture the beauty of the Georgian City of Bath. Repetition has stripped much of its' veneer yet this solitary bin caught my eye. By the side f the river Avon, by Pultney Bridge. Still there for enthusiasts to see.

Skree is not burned out

Work for money has precluded work for artistic expression of late. There is a pattern forming though, an evolving journey of thought. Taking the industrial architecture of the Towers and the reassurance of The Edgelands, a whole system of observation is becoming clear. Today found me in the rain, exploring the quarrys. I recall the, lets face it, pretty poor Banksy car though the vast expanse of land has the work of many artists, from authodox grafitti to melted tar holding artifacts. The parties that have taken place there have all left marks, the industrial herritage has sculpted an immense area. If you get on google earth and check out just how much of the land has been destroyed for Yeomans, Hansons and Wainwright it disturbs. Yet this brownfield site is littered with flowers, art is everywhere, burnt out wrecks soon drift into nature and a fascinating environment is there to explore. Charred remains of outdated vehicles, detritus from traveller always becomes beautiful given a year or two.

Across the road where the lakes where the Ketamin fishing trip took place and the folly of the victorian grotto still remain offer a more traditional beauty yet the quarry remains are closer to my heart.

Communication Tower

After looking at a job today I filled in a small gap I'd been meening to for ages. Only 70 foot or so but still a beautfl thing.

Pre Fame Banksy 5

I thought I ought to bring you these experiments from the quarry where the cartoonist did the zebra car. They aren't bad in the flesh and in no book.

Pre Fame Banksy 3

Pre Fame Banksy 4

Pre Fame Banksy 2

Looks better on its' side

Pre fame Banksy 1

Leeds scrape victory

Not an impressive performance from the Loiners. Losing 6 nil till late in the game Sinfield had to assert some dominance. Improvement is needed on that with the Pies wacking Saints thoroughly and Wire and Huds looking so strong. Who knows how things will go, Leeds have suffered from severe injuries both at the tail end of last season and early this one and still havn't managed to regain the strength of recent years. But a win is a win, 2 points in the bag.

Jason Feddy UK Tour

I intend to go see the bard of Moortown yet am flumuxed as to which gig to attend. Whos going to which?

Churn

I wish I could type faster or be able to afford a secretary

Cruciform 18

And then the evening comes upon me and a different beauty battles with my conscience. Whose life am I responsible for? My own, my dog and all who care for me.

Gravel

I stared at the gravel before me, knowing what I must do.

Those Gates

Them gates are still holding me back from what I know I must do. I hate hurting people.

Green and red sycamore

Studio today

Beds and other stuff coming together.

Furniture thoughts

If one was to write a book of 10 makers that were of significance that came from the world of craft woodwork where would you start? Alan Peters is essential, few would dispute this, his connection to history is significant, his work too. John Makepeace must come next. His school trained so many, his self promotion put us all on the map. His sheer prolific output of ideas leaves all others behind. His eloquence has explained an angle of deep importance. Fred Baier has made objects that cannot be easily categorised. He has gone through many phases, each expanding the envelope of possibillity, created perhaps the most historically important work of all of his generation. The effects of his work spread to the Memphis movement and he is the only designer maker whose vision has had an impact on architecture.
Where do you go from here? Rupert Williamson brought an angle that added to Makepeace, Jeremy Broun added a vision, David Colwell brought production approaches to craft. It doesn't go much further.
There are the main three. The rest start to blur. I shall give this more thought.

Poppies

I sleep with my wallet clutched to my chest. My phone is not my own. Everything I have is heald close as the hunger of another seeks to take all. My world is bereft of trust. My phone is used to scam. I tried to leave but love pulled me back. Now I must go. Tex is getting old. I am torn, tattered, bruised. I can't trust anymore. Every time I have I have been robbed. My quiet exit tommorrow will hurt but I cannot be bullied by selfishness of this degree.

The Strangeness of ones past

As the creative avenue one chose entraps by its volume of experience, each sideway glance reveals horrors beyond belief. What reference to me do the mighty towers of fine craft furniture, lost from all direction deliver? More distorted forms, more strangled contortions that communicate only the makers skill. Yet to have taken these processes to heart, learnt to form any idea within their walls, there only seems a parade of mundainity to stand alongside. I will find a way. I will find a home for my children.

Lost Moments of possibillity

There was a time when Furniture Desiger Making was an exciting field. It could have evolved in to a fantastically creative practice. Fred Baier walked a solitary path, Alan Peters made great work, John Makepeace was prolific. Others, Jez Broun, Rupert Williamson, Richard La Trobe Bateman came along all with new angles.

A second generation followed. Waywood were and still are amazing. David Savage followed the Makepeace route in plagueristic manner. Craft over came art and a terrible wave is still in motion.

Why no one looked to the magnificent architecture this country was producing, the great art that made London the centre of the art world one can only guess at. Perhaps a defiance born of the Brian Sewell school of thought that valued skill over thought, a hunger for craft in a time of mass production. Awful lumpen objects that bore no relevance to anything other than its own self importance. This is truly a terrible time for fine craft furniture.

Furniture with Soul

I have not read or seen David Savages book that covers 10 makers. Any addition to the small number of books on fine furniture is welcome. There does appear to be a desperate feel to engage on such a project, to write a book in order to align oneself with a certain eschelon. Critics, writers and journalists should be putting forward works of this nature. I met and worked with one student of his . He was poorly trained and had little understanding but to judge from just one seems daft. I stole his block plane.
Before I engage in any critisism of the book I need to study the work which I will. No disrespect to Savage but if his work were of significance wouldn't others be writing books about him? I grow weary of the distorted form, I question whether a basic understanding of proportion shouldn't be an educational necessity before a maker chooses to play with a time honoured evolution? There are reasons why wheels are round.
I am looking forward to being proved wrong and blown away.

Loiners purple patch continues

44 14 victory over Hull KR seems to confirm that Leeds are on the mend. Also good to read the Klitschko interview stating many English fight fans are in support of him over the loudmouth Haye. Makes for terrible reading Jake Fiors description of life within the Doherty circle. I have defended Peter as he was friendly to me though the death of Robin Whitehead concerns me. You can't play with drugs or druggies without serious danger.

Wide to West - The Best Try You Will Ever See

No other sport can deliver moments like this. I feel honoured to have been introduced to Rugby League by my father. He also gave me boxing, birdwatching, butterfly knowledge, fish, rivers, wildlife. We may have had our disagreements, I like to stay in and draw when it's raining, he dragged me out fishing at 5 in the morning as a boy in the pissing rain. But I understand now and the beauty he saw, still sees, contributes to what I am

Rugby star Gareth Thomas reveals he's gay

Fascinating to see how Mickey Rourke will explain Gareths story in film. I feel a sense of pride that Gareth not only had the bravery to come out but to change codes to Rugby League, the far harder sport. Most RU players just can't find the strength and fitness to perform for twice the time an RU player has to work for. The switch of codes shows equal bravery as being honest about his sexuallity. Thomas hasn't yet managed to make an impact in the sport yet the whole episode, film included should bring attention to the greatest game of all.

Grass

Convolvulous

A bright white light has cleared my head of all worry or concern over my production. There are those that create and those that critisize, the only point of which is often to destroy. I needed to learn this lesson. I had critisized artists yet they are all braver than critics so shall never critisize a fellow artist again, even if they are crap. From recent experience it comes from an innabillity to understand and a jealousy of that knowledge.

The Orb

Snakes and Ladders

Work, the thing folk do to get paid in order to do something they want to do, is a strange old buisness. I was chatting to the glass blower who works in the next studio to me and she reminded me how lucky we are to be able to create stuff in a beautiful environment. Some times I have to make a functional piece of furniture, even a kitchen to keep the whole thing going, to be able to play, to allow myself the freedom to make things. I forget at times, how fortunate I am. Some Angel has their eye on me and protects me. The thought of work, in the sense of my first sentence at times blurs with 'my work', a term artists, designers etc. adopted though 'play' may be a more accurate term. Not that the activity lacks labour or stress, strain and all the pains of conventional work. Often many hours more are put in by the artist, craftsman, designer, [I still don't know what term to use for what I am] than are put in by the 9 to 5er whose sole goal is the financial rewards to pursew their true love. There is a lot to be said for hobbies. It isn't an easy path though. Each day carries the burdon of self analysis, the fear that it all may be a load of crap. Not everything I make is for my self expression, far from it, others want special dreams creating for them. I had a visit from an older maker. He makes about one piece a year, his financial fortunes allow him this luxury. His sole goal is innovation. He seemed to critisize the fact that at our studio we collaborate with interior designers, architects to afford our freedom. When I think of the number of pieces I have to make to survive it shakes me, two vanity units in yew, half a bed, ongoing, a kitchen, oak wash room, various pieces of other works, others I can't even recall since christmas yet a man whose output is a fraction of ours comes to say ignorant and hurtful things. I'm over it now. I start a series of four beds tommorrow in yew and ash. The writing will continue, the photography and the art. I admire any artist who can support themself solely through their 'free' work but don't bully those who break their backs to afford time to make their art and rich failed artists aren't worth consideration. Not because they are rich but because they are basically engaged in a hobby, not a profession.

Rooftops In My Chair

Skreeworld

Gridlock 2 45

It came back in need of repair but I thought I'd put it up for the sake of nostalgia to the times when I had the freedom to make work purely for exhibition. I'll get it sorted out and shiny for all to see. It is a simple work, cycle components, a grid of cubes locked together. A quick comment on transport problems. I sold the first one that had anodised aluminium clamps in pink down one side and blue down the other. Not one of my best but not too bad either.

Gridlock 2

Gridlock was a piece I made whilst I was a millitant cyclist. It is a grid of oak cubes locked using cycle quick release mechanisms. The idea came whilst cycling and I swore I would make more pieces using bicycle components with wood, its a great contrast visually and the message understandable to even the least considersate.

Light

Is it the light in this country? Why do we get the seasonal exposure of artists? Of course the tradition of commerce has made from now till November 'Art' time yet George Shaw, whose work pays little head to season, with his tremendous Baltic show is finally getting the press he deserves. I hear he is a Turner nominee, I hope this is true, it would be truly fantastic for him to win. The Turner Prize is a joke in many ways yet it is an influential joke. So many great artists find themselves in art schools being told to loosen up, try some installation, forget your drawing skills they only hold you back. The abillity to draw is the abillity to look, the skill to see. For far too long has art been made a joke of. Any fool who has bought some work from recent years due to advice from those who 'know' what will grow in value rather than something that moved them has only themselves to blame. A huge ammount of work bought in the Blair Brown years will lose value, but then , if that was your aim,you bought it for the wrong reason.

Jimmy Cauty

I love James' riots in jars. He is a fine example of an artist the mainstream will never fully admit. His gift with Bill Drummond to Rachel Whiteread for producing the worst body of work that year of twice the prize she also won for producing House, one of her OCD repetitive negative space pieces was seen as some cheap attack on the highly conservative Turner Prize. Whilst I am glad the Turner Prize takes place as it draws many in to art that otherwise wouldnt bother checking out, it also appears, from the outside as hugely pompous. Occassionall a good artist gets through though many, many very poor artists slip in, unable to communicate without vast text that when read is often amongst the worst journalism, indeed writing to be found anywhere. Cautys' show is readable by all. His work, frequentley ridiculed carries more meening, more thought triggers than a huge body of backslappers that have carved out a turf that foolish buyers and collectors are misguidedly purchasing in an embarrassing search for kudos. I don't think Cautys jars are the best art this year by a long stretch but why is competition applied to art at all? it isn't maths, you can not get it wrong. What these small works are is an offering of relevence, his gift to us to show where he is at now, how he is thinking. Good on you Jimmy, you have brightened up my life many times when 'art' was questioning itself about what it was rather than just getting on with it.

New Life

The first night was idylic, sun hot till ten, bats and midges and silence. I don't know where to be. Home normally ammounts to a bed or a sofa. A pillow and a duvet. The trailer was my home for several years and Tex settled easily. Wonderful to have your door wide open on a summer night. House dwellers seldom see stars, I saw over a dozen shooting stars, one a huge red streak that ripped the night sky open like a scalpel in a surgeons hand. I had no idea what to wish for. I don't know what I want. I bought a DVD as I couldnt get internet connection, NEDS, a good film, drank beer, smoked a bit yet my thoughts couldnt coalesce in to any form, no idea of whether what I am doing is wrong or right or even if these simple terms can carry the complexity of what is happening. The night went, the alarm for the workshop was triggered by something but I found no intruder.
Saturday I bought papers and felt the solitude of self. The night came on and my solitude went.
Sunday, I woke and shared breakfast after the previous nights vicious storm. Then to see travellers, friends, my girlfreind or ex, I don't know. I arranged to stay the night on the sofa to share a film and to not fuck Tex head too much. Visitor. We didn't get chance to talk.

Brian Clough

Brian Clough was a horrible man. Arrogant, rude. I prefer not to think of the European Cups that Peter Taylor won for Nottingham Forrest for who I have vast respect, but of his failure to understand Leeds United and his deterioration in to alcoholism. His bloodshot face is the true image of Clough.

Poppies

Looking forward to the next stage. You only get one shot at this.

Moving

Well, the decision has been taken for me, tommorrow I look for a new home. I will not talk of detail.

Time for a change

The brutality, the bullying, please, time to go