I am reading two books at the moment. I should be preparing for tomorrow’s talk at the Cornerhouse where I have to do a presentation. It is only 20 minutes (the presentation) so I have been frantically cutting down my usual talk. Anyway the two books are: “The Lost World of Cliff Twemlow” and “Live and Let Die” Actually I have stopped reading the latter due to the embarrassment caused when reading it in alone in a Manchester restaurant. It was racially more than a little dubious to begin with, but when I turned the page to a new chapter entitled “Nigger Heaven” I felt as if a neon sign had lit above my head. My ensuing panic as the waitress appeared to take my dessert order caused my already wobbly table to buck spilling at least 50ps worth of my Martini. Hopefully Twemlow’s lost world will prove to be safer.
The editing is more or less complete with 18 films on my hard drive. My thoughts have now turned to how the work will be shown. The plans so far are that a room will be built on the second floor of The Cornerhouse. That a Neon sign declaring “PEARLVILLE” will be placed flickering outside the room. That the room will be filled with old television sets and supporting furniture and that all the films will be played at once each vying with the other for attention. All I need is a room, a sign, television sets, dvd players and furniture.
Yesterday started badly and ended mediocrely. The middle went well. I was full of excitement because my Helium arrived early transported in an unmarked silver van by a man who would not have looked out of place in GBH (the Twemlow straight to video spectacular). It was not long before I had a camera floating on a large balloon and was making plans to allow it to float gently around the mill. I set it on the spiral staircase and turned back to check reception. All was well it had accosted a young lady on the next floor and was drifting slowly downwards.
Then without warning the balloon gathered speed. Twisting violently in the grips of an unseen force it headed towards the light and the signal was lost. Dropping the receiver I ran down the stairs but it was gone floating across Salford. I gathered Mr Bracey, Mr Griffiths (returned from a yurt in wales) and Miss Dover for a search. But the only evidence we could find was the following image posted later on Twitter.
Later filming went better. Though more than once I had to dive to stop my backup camera following its predecessor.
The day ended with a little light entertainment at The Cornerhouse. Miss Dover and I managed to acquire complementary tickets for Gainsbourg mainly by mentioning names at random until the vendor recognised one and was hypnotised into handing them over. Giant puppets apart, it was a drab monotonous film in which the protagonist certainly had a lot more fun than the audience.
Miss Dover and I decided to take a day away from the Mill today and visit my parents who live nearby. My washing had reached critical state and we were looking forward to a belated Sunday lunch promised on our last meeting. Film production has ground to a halt as I am awaiting for a delivery of helium gas and potassium ferricyanide. It should arrive tomorrow. We had an enormous roast lunch and a good deal of white wine and gin and tonic. There must be a study somewhere on increased alcohol consumption in artists in residence. It seems to be on a par with UN operatives in war zones. After lunch we returned to the Cornerhouse for a meeting with Dr Andrew Willis Reader in Film Studies at the University of Salford, expert in the films of Cliff Twemlow, and Sarah Perks who will be leading the ‘In Conversation’ on Thursday. I managed to escape with only one beer drunk as I thought I might need my wits about me later. I had promised to help Mr Moisander extract HD video files from my camera, not a simple task.
Naked Woman in Shower
Spent the morning strangling Mr Moisander with a long blue rope. Mr Bracey and Miss Dover took pictures. Mr Moisander survived and dashed off to the attic wearing a long black wig. http://www.juhanamoisander.com/
We are over half way now. Staying at Islington Mill has been a pleasant experience made perfect by Bill and Morry’s easygoing hospitality. Most enjoyable (and terrifying) has been the cinematic showerroom/toilet in my room which has forced Miss Dover or I to hide screaming under the covers whilst the other answers a call of nature. On the other hand the shower does offer a bedside show worthy of any Bond film. I have placed an image of the naked Miss Dover on my blog in a blatant attempt to improve internet traffic. I did this in a flurry of activity this morning after filling in a questionnaire about my use of the internet for Miss Towler (an inspirational name?) who is writing an article for Axis.
