Last chance saloon


I’m taking down the exhibition of my inventory from 4pm tomorrow so there’s one last chance to see it between 9.30 and 4pm in it’s current incarnation.

I’ll get quietly maudlin and reflective about it at the weekend but for now I’m just shattered, and whereas the installation was, in my head, styled with military precision, the take down is more likely to resemble a fire sale. I came home from work last night at eight pm and fell asleep on the sofa. I woke up just after midnight and went to bed but I didn’t have the energy to change or even pull back the covers, so I woke up this morning lying on top of various clothes, my dressing gown and a dried out wet towel that had been left there since the morning.

It’s been a brilliant month and I’ve been really lucky to be able to show my work and lead a four week project for the National Portrait Gallery at Great Ormond Street Hospital at the same time. I am thrilled with the way that both projects turned out and I appreciate everyone who took time out to visit the show or send me their best wishes. I can’t wait to do it again, but, at the risk of tempting fate and being very ungrateful, I’m also a little bit happy that it’s over.