Art Poseur

Hangs around 'deepest, darkest New Cross.'

I hope she ate a Chick Chicken.

Pancakes

Self explanatory.

Fun results from the disposable camera. I cannot even begin to tell you how bad we look in this photo.

Valentines

A bad film. An amazing friend. A bottle of Sainsbury's basics white wine. A bar of Sainsbury's basics dark chocolate.

No more is needed.

Earlier in the night. Paella. Cake. Motown.

Yesterday. Brighton, train journeys, cameras, brunch, the beach, pebbles, the sun.

Sneak peak around Brighton University. Some beautiful prints, some not so beautiful paintings. Some pearls of wisdom, reliving memories.

Procrastination today. Tidy room, clean hair. Still no essay.

Want to get back to printing. I can't believe the silkscreen is booked solid for the next three weeks.

Bruce Mau says that the best things happen later at night. I'm inclined to believe him.

Really nice mixed tape podcast on kitsune noir as well. Can't go wrong if you start with rilo kiley.

Insomnia

In the words of Faithless. I can't get no sleep.

It seems like time is slipping through my fingertips. The last week has passed in a haze of galleries, seminars and buying used travelcards, of the British Library treasure room and of managing to negotiate our way into a Royal Academy private viewing. Night cityscapes overlooking Canary Wharf from Greenwich, making it into the wood workshop and building Colin, a pinhole camera. The exposure times were so prolonged that it turned this idea of capturing a single moment on its head, it was almost capturing a narrative. Even the images that didn't develop held this kind of unspoken narrative, a trace of something. Stopping for a camera you become almost a caricature of yourself, forced smile, holding a pose. Yet with an exposure time that spans for more than ten minutes it felt more appropriate, more real perhaps.

Ideas ideas ideas. Its that time of night where I can't sleep for overspilling thoughts. Also a time where I wish I had a scanner. And that I hadn't given Snappy Snaps a blank film to develop. And that I hadn't spent £2.10 on an average hot chocolate just so I could sit in the warm for an hour and wait for a film to be developed that hadn't even been exposed.

This is my week in a list. David Hockney film, amazing Bradford accent, artist as melancholic figure debate, film screening, sleep inducing, the word soporific generally, wood glue, studio pearls of wisdom, pinhole, darkroom, ICA, photography, vowing to never again go shopping in Oxford Street on a Saturday afternoon, wishful thinking (thank you Royal Academy), rain, cinema.

Avatar was pretty good. The best description I have heard so far is that it is like Pocahontas but with blue people.

Royal Academy show highlights for me (from what I could transcribe from the scrawl on my hand afterwards) included this and this. Prints on newsprint and copperplate etchings caught my eye too.

Tonight Tonight

'Everyone of us is losing something precious to us... lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads ... there's a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library, and to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in a while, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words you'll live forever in your own private library'

Murakami again, this time Kafka on the Shore. I really need to start reading more of his books. More books generally.

Colour darkroom today, bit surreal, everything is done in complete darkness. Was asked whether I felt the room get smaller or bigger. I answered bigger. Apparently this means I'm not claustrophobic, which can only be a good thing. Also went to the Tate Modern to see the Michael Rokowitz exhibition. Have to say it was quite intriguing. Not many people would be seen to be linking Saddam Hussein's regime in Iraq with Star Wars in examining the power that cult phenomenons have upon the popular consciousness.

These are lovely

Today I am grateful for

• Big cartons of Ribena.
• Darkroom facilities. Bleach and film.
• Tate bookshop on a quiet day
• Brian Eno's oblique strategies generator. I may indeed write an exhaustive things to do list and do the last thing on it.
• Long bus rides.
• Simon & Garfunkel. The Only Living Boy in New York

Today I am not so grateful for

• The bitter bitter cold
• My ridiculously long things to do list
• How quickly my money seems to be disappearing.

Old Kent Road is a really long road. I really am living at the brown part of the Monopoly board.

2.10

Think Freshers Flu part two is on the horizon.

Scenic bus ride. Wanted it to last forever. Hilarious man with a hilarious laugh reducing us to tears. Radio 4 to drift off to sleep. Sporadic list. Brian Eno generator suggested to make an exhaustive list of things to do and then do the last thing on it. I may take him up on that. Should really be asleep. Fresh sheets call. Rediscovering my love for Simon and Garfunkel. Can hear the vixens screaming and pipes clattering. Tired eyes.

Watched New York, I Love You yesterday. Not quite as good as Paris Je T'aime but it had the most beautiful story. It was everything a short film should be.

And now bedtime.

Music

I highly doubt I will ever have any idea what is ever happening on the music scene.