Sunday 7th September
Got up, not much sleep due to being chased by Scooby Doo and a large sausage and went downstairs. Today was show day and the new Impossimal launch at the ICC flagship gallery in Birmingham. Hundreds of people to talk to and my head was full of cotton wool. Checked emails, found plenty of spam for enlargement pills, decided not to take up any of the offers as I had worked out on the calculator that it would make it approximately 275 feet long and a tripping hazard. Made a coffee and sat down to compose myself.
Jayne was up and about busying herself for the show, I fumbled with the toothpaste tube then went into the shower apparently just to get soap in my eyes and stumble out to trip over the towel. An hour later I started to look a little better than the strategically shaved chimp I was earlier.
Made a flask of coffee, I know it’s show day and all that but I can’t help treating it like a camping trip. Avoided the mistake of adding a quick ‘nip’ to the flask and screwed the lid tightly on. It’s prone to a bit of a leak so I turned it upside down over the sink and shook it. No leak, good, in the car it went.
Both in the car, sat-nav switched on and programmed, it reports no problems on the route and we set off. The journey takes around an hour and a half but halfway through the sat-nav develops a speech problem that it has never done before. It has trouble pronouncing ‘R’s. The word Birmingham comes out as Biringham, roundabout becomes Rindabout. How we laugh. Not, as she tells us to take the frist turin on the Rites which was actually a dead end. We switch off stupid sat-nag, we don’t need it anyway.
The diversion got us lost and no amount of pleading with the sat-nav would get it to switch on again. It bounces on the back seat when it lands, switches on and tells us that we are going in the wring dieriliction and we should turin arind.
Mailbox carpark, Birmingham. We are not due to get to the event until around 11:00am so reach for the flask for a nice cup of coffee. Jayne busies herself looking for the bananas (for a snack, we don’t have a monkey with us) and I have the task of pouring the coffee. Sat in the driver seat I unwittingly unscrew the two cups on top. Funny, they seem a little stiff, I don’t remember screwing them on that tightly.
Vacuum seal!!!! Oh no!!!
Too late, the first cup unscrewed and a torrent of scalding hot coffee poured out and straight between my legs. Red hot coffee splashed all over my nether regions on my show jeans and soaked through boiling my hollyhocks on the way. I jumped up and hit the roof, Jayne squealed and I remained trapped, half lifted on my haunches with a smouldering crotch and steaming bottom the flask tightly held and my head crushed into the fabric lining of the roof. Other users of the carpark eye me with suspicion as Jayne rushes around to my door and flings it open. I straddle out like a cowboy on a horse dripping a brown liquid from all the wrong places. Copious amounts of kitchen roll are called into play as the mopping up operation begins and I sit on a tea towel to soak up the coffee and to avoid the incontinence look at the show. Ho, bloody ho, what a great start, maybe I should jump into the canal on the way there to freshen up a little, I smell like a year old jar of Maxwell House.
Then of course I have to bend over so Jayne can survey the damage. I don’t know if you have ever tried to do this inconspicuously in a busy public carpark or not but all I can tell you is that security wasn’t happy. On camera it looked like I was employing in ‘erotic compositions’ said the burly guard who was sent down to investigate. Suitably ashamed and chastised the security guard did indeed agree that it was unfortunate and after a quick look at my bottom said I had nothing to worry about. However dear blog for the rest of the day I smelt like Starbucks.
The walk to the show was short and uneventful, which I was rather thankful for although once or twice people I passed did utter to their respective partners that they fancied a coffee, was it my aroma that suggested it? My paranoia increased. I walked through the doors and into the gallery, ‘fancy a coffee?’ someone suggested, ‘No thanks’ I said ‘I poured one over my ballcocks earlier, maybe later!’ unfortunately I think this was taken as a weird artist comment even though it was a true statement and I never saw the person again.
The show began, Jayne manned her new position as Washington Green Artist with five fabulous originals next to my established long in the tooth, oh no not that old croak again what’s he bloody doing now wall space and that was that. Time disappeared along with 149 Golden Hares, the QR and NFC tagged keys and prize tickets.
So after two days I sat on a Tuesday morning which I think is Monday with my head still in Sunday writing a blog about scalding your scrotum and thinking, wha? Wher? And other suitably ridiculous thoughts as I compose myself.
Ahem, that’s better.
Over the weekend we released seven brand new Impossimal pieces and three new sculptures, Jayne officially joined the ranks of Washington Green with a series of original only ceramic and wire pieces, together we will be touring the country and bringing with us the golden hares to hide and give away. Full details will appear later this week about all the events and all I can say is that it’s an incredibly exciting time and a very big thanks to all the galleries and people who attended the launch at the ICC, it was great to be able to chat to everyone and we look forward to seeing you all again in the following months.
Right, that’s it, I’m a little tired and Jayne is boiling the kettle. I just need to get into the drivers seat whilst she pours.