Very little teaching since the start of Lockdown, but 2 hours yesterday.
Tis is an alteration, as they prefer to call it, or maybe an appropriation. They make up nomenclature as they go along. Acrylic over a carrier bag from Barcelona. The Museum of Catalan Art is one of my favourite places. The Romanesque frescoes from the High Pyrenees are incredible, as are the architectural armatures they have constructed to display them.
I 'taught' Physics to Yr11 and Dance to Yr7 on the last day of tie, though the latter was eaten into by a fire alarm, a false alarm probably set off by a disgruntled Yr 11. They have missed 7 months of full education. I used inverted commas earlier because they were top set told to revise for assessments after Easter, but were a bit demob happy despite only having been in face-to-face school for 3 weeks. They were very chatty, the front row, masked, wanting to know about 'Prometheus' and other pressing matters to do with my YouTube channel. They are so funny! Like a needle in the arm for someone who may have done less than 40 days in the last year. Any teacher who claims they hate teaching shouldn't be in the profession. The dance, inspired by gladiators (the Roman ones, not the silly TV show) was brilliant.
I didn't get into the Bare-Bottomed Arsehole Gallery shortlist. There is an inevitability that any competition gets hundreds of entries and the contestant never knows precisely what they are looking for, even viewing past exhibitions and perusing a commercial strategy document on their website. I normally feel affronted by the lack of acceptance, but as long as I have been teaching dance or physics just before the base rejection i tend now to just say 'Tant pis!' The next one is called, bizarrely, Nude Affiliation - free to enter, then 20euros to display digitally if you get through. Not sure if this is a better plan that the other way round. But I now MAKE myself submit, even with the strong possibility of getting absolutely nowhere.
I guess I should apologise to the BBA Gallery for renaming them, but one has to drag some small. puerile amusement from the failure, I guess. The sun is shining and I have Simply Red greatest hits streaming from the moloch Amazon. What more can I expect? A March sale.
I bought a cast iron cobbler's last yesterday too. I have posted no sculpture on here, and almost certainly won't as I intend not to sell, but I will cover this thing with Hammerite and enamel spots, and call it Oedipus. There is a group of small paintings of the previous things I have made which may appear on here. They are one remove from the actual objects, not a plan, but stylised image, again suggesting the artist's store of knowledge, and ultimately doing, is kept within his skull.
Clocks go forward tonight. I have always thought that is such a stupid thing, and it takes me longer to recover from the shift every year. Sleeping tablet last night gave me approaching 10 hours rest. The night before I woke at 4.50 and got up at 6.00!