Sunday, 2 October 2011
What an odd lot?
I have had a fraught week of meetings, teaching and finishing off trails of titles, photographs and things for the media for the next leg of (Now that would be) Telling at Dr Johnson's House in London as well as complete works for "Treasure', the next chapter of 'The Count of Monte Cristo'. It was a mad dash late of Thursday afternoon that I set off in the heat towards London to deliver the works to both venues. One huge job done.
The next morning was a bus journey to Fleet Street, stopping off to find the printer of the brochure for NTWBT. I was rather relieved in retrospect that we had decided to instal first at Dr Johnson's House early on Friday morning as with the unexpected rise in temperature over the last few days, it meant that by the time I would complete and then wind over to Peckham for the installation of Treasure then most of the work would be done before I melted into a puddle. The pressures of this however took their toll a bit with me as I was in a complete daze mid evening at Treasures opening and showing signs of odd behaviour (I apparently moved a light that was highlighting Mimei's painting and placed it over a triangle of treasure that we had created on the floor over the day. Such an action to my thinking, should have resulted in a big slap from Mimei, but she was thankfully too polite to tell me off). Other fellows like Annabel fainted on Friday which resulted in her not making the PV and later on Alex also had the collywobbles, pre private view, en route to talking at TAP in Southend. What an odd lot? I move on....
Sunday proved to be move relaxed after sleeping in the comatosed shape of a crucifix at Cathy's house on Saturday night. After a day of not eating or drinking enough, I needed the rest. We had a few visitors over the day some of which we knew and some one which we didn't. Alex headed over in the afternoon to keep me safe (apparently) after leaving Annabel to sleep off her exhaustion. We ate biscuits and drank gallons in order to keep our strength up and somehow we managed to find our way home.
Today I have been writing.
Tomorrow is the private view of (Now that would be) Telling, Dr Johnsons.
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