I've been banned from Facebook again. Whoops. My mum says I need to stop. It’s like, my 5 th time now. They keep telling me that if I do anything wrong again that’s it. Wiped off the face of the face…book. I’m a repeat offender you see. Keep publishing indecent material apparently. God knows what I was dreaming about but I woke up and the first thing I did was this. It's a collage not a metaphor. Currently living in an ex mental day care centre and I found a curious collection of informational photographs, crying out for a collage or two. These pictures of plugs were my favourite. Plug Me In, Turn Me On BANNED After creating another masterpiece, the first person I had to tell was Facebook. It turns out that Facebook can’t handle a few pieces of paper stuck together, crafted simply with an eye for detail and glue. Facebook can handle the hideous sites devoted to woman’s breasts and arses and all manor of other shameful public shows and grotesque acts of the mor
Like a Lamb to the Slaughter I had arranged for some people to come round. They just wanted to see what I got up to on my day off, take some picture ect. I was planning on using a hare (it being Easter and all) but the only thing that was budging was a lamb. I was planning on crucifying it before I knew about Gunther Von Hagens and his idea of taking a dead body to the Pope. These baby lambs died of natural causes soon after birth. Sinking feeling I decided not to wash the blood out. It's the harsh, stark reminder of the brutality. I then turned the spot light on and...
Unfortunately, due to a series of the most unfortunate and catastrophic events smashing wildly and unexpectedly into each other- I have had to cancel the show. The Greatest Show That Ever Died, remains dead. The universe has dealt some devastating blows in a whole variety of situations, and sadly this is one of them. To be able to live as I do in London, I need to not be paying rent. I found a way to do this through house sitting. Sometimes you’re living the dream, other times it’s sofa surfing, squat life and tinder dates. As well as my tempestuous sleeping arrangements, I have also been secretly struggling for a creative reason to live. For a while now, I have been slowly slipping into an uphill battle with a whirling pit of despair. Nothing was moving, everything was stuck. Most things felt lost. The only real joy and sanctuary was my art studio, which was generously donated to me a few years ago by The Vaults. No matter what was going on, I could alwa
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