Dinner at the Zoo

In December I wrote down every word of a certain scrabble-game, intending to one day make them into a short piece of writing...

scrabble words in red...


One evening, my wife and I, as an aid to combat boredom, dined out at the zoo. I took the weasel-head with cod mayo, which, contrary to my expectations, was quite tasty, though I found a bug in it. The waiter was evil and a bit of a voyeur, and halfway through the meal did a full lunge at my wife, for which there was absolutely no need whatsoever. I gave his foot a poke with my fork, and before it could get any baser, headed for the exit. I felt beads of sweat running down my face, and suggested that my wife and I might get racy back home. I told her to note that I had a lot of gigs this week, so she should make the most of my being around. She said she'd rather eat grit (a well-worn trope of hers). She has a mania for collecting twee maritime artifacts, especially the helms of old wooden boats. Privately I hope she bloody quits it, as there's really no more room in the garage now for my expanding collection of flax. 



It's a fun and quite difficult excercise.

Deconstructed...

Recent screenprint idea which probably won't be used now. A continuing series of images based on larders/food packaging and trying to create something poetic and ambiguous.