Wall Paper

Since our last posting much has happened and yet little has changed, such is our 40 something condition. Where once we were fabulous paintings that grabbed attention now we are but the wall paper to other paintings, everyone else's lovely life dependant on us unnoticed as the ever present background. Small sigh.

Still, we have go-karted. We have won a quiz, all be it with a few ringers (even in victory we opted for the polo shirts). We have discussed our old book and chosen our new book. We have holidayed in the last Alpine snows before the forever summer. We have talked of Sarah Cardy, Second life, Teenagers, showers and growers, West Ham, ipods, workshops, plumbers and Tom Bradby to name but a few that spring to mind. Mustnt grumble hey.

Anyway something that made me smile last night on the radio :

The Price of Art in Luton

On the bridge approaching the railway,the man was begging.
I said draw me a dog and I'll give you a quid.
So I gave him some paper and he did.
And I said, there you go, mate,you can make money out of art!
Will you sign it?
As I handed him the one pound thirty-odd I had in my pocket,
he informed me that the signed ones were a fiver.

John Hegley