Relocation, relocation, relocation

Fear not, dear reader, the missing component of the installation has been found: the artist had merely moved it into a neighbouring gallery.

I think it works well as an individual piece.

Disappointed

Well, it seems someone didn't appreciate our avant-garde statement and has made off with the tyre. I'm hopeful, however, that it was the artist themselves rethinking the piece; to return with something more powerful. My breath is bated.

Is this you?

Living in one of the cultural epicenters of East Sussex, very little surprises me any more. So, the fact that someone has decided to begin an art installation on our driveway has not sparked the need to 'phone my councillor or write stern letters to the local paper. I say begin because this seems to be an ongoing thing, starting a few days ago with the glove, with the addition of the tyre this morning. I'm wondering if it's an ironically slow performance piece. I may well photograph its progress and put it all together when it's complete, Nick Park style.

As nice as it is to consider using our house as impromptu gallery, the artist has neglected to place one of those little cards explaining its meaning so at present, I have no idea which way up it's supposed to be viewed. Answers on a postcard please.

Hum-drum

So, I started this 'blog yesterday with all the best intentions of having it filled with wondrous musings and other such things, but, as it transpires, not much has happened (from my side of things, at least).

Jules and her friends from the course did their first public massage session today. Despite her doubts, it was a huge success and she thoroughly enjoyed it, although she was shattered by the end of it.

We stayed at home playing Wipeout Pulse. Here are two typical snapshots of my game-play tactics:

The first being on the verge of destruction

and the second actually achieving it.

The first day of the rest of my life..

..so this could be a very long 'blog; or stop here. It's always a lottery.