Building Site



Someone somewhere forgot to pass on the invitation to the launch of Angela Lyn’s exhibition all about a building site and the loss of trees which is in arty world’s New Inn Yard in Shoreditch. Where there’s muck, there’s brass. I blagged my way in , not really, but was determined to be there on its first day because Sue and Anna, Suteria and I had got ourselves in as artists, participants and anything that suits as part of the community engagement programme at Rosetta Art Centre in West Ham. We’d joined in a Skype session and a meet the real artist session where not a drop of wine was presented way back in Summer and wracked our brains to grasp an idea to contribute in the conceptual art process. We drew our ideas and gave surges of energy to the project, “Building Site”. For what? Yesterday in passing Lyn mentioned a workshop coming up whereas no-one else did and it’s next week.  And no we’re not coming to the launch tonight (because no-one told us it was happening). Eeh closed doors. Meanwhile I’d been arranging my own art exhibitions, because I can.

I’d seen much of the work on Facebook. So much is in the curating. Look at Hepworth at Tate Britain. Mistressful stuff. The funny part was three hard-hatted real builders craning their necks to see through the dusty windows of number 31 to see what was going on. A building site was being constructed indeed as I left Lyn arranging lights and lifting paper from the floor.wpid-2015-10-01-10.58.10.jpg.jpeg

“Rock Against Racism” was around the corner and up in dirty Rivington Street almost opposite St. Leonard’s Church, haven of a senior buildings exploratory group. It wasn’t ready either . Syd Shelton’s photographs of Black Britain were to be aired that evening. At noon though, I wasn’t allowed in for Health and Safety reasons. Fair dos.wpid-2015-10-01-11.20.35.jpg.jpeg


I spied a freshly discarded Ted Baker yellow bag with mauve ribbons and forced myself to leave it for another. But..therein lay a pair of good men’s shoes. I picked up the bag intending to drop it off at a refugee donation collection hub near me. On the floor at Pimlico Station sat a suited homeless guy who was very happy to get my Ted Baker bag and its contents. There but for fortune go you and I.

Onwards and upwards. Let me try my three month trial Art Fund Pass and use my age (remember tis the Day of Older People) to visit Barbara Hepworth’s exhibition at Tate Britain.

£7 odd was a bargain and I spent hours there because she is worth it.


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