Paris Was a Woman

I never do anything with my photography or my art, I give it to friends who like it then forget about it so here is a collection of my photographs over the last few years, this one above I took in the Tate Modern and so are a few below. I have no idea who these guys were on the other one below, I took it in a flat steel wall outside the lifts.

The crack in the one above was made by Cornelia Parker I think, I think she took a mallet to the concrete, or something.

These two below are my gate lady and my gate face, I found them on old gates – they feature in The Panopticon.

Gate Lady.

Shutter My Water Tree is the one below.

I’ll put my green man below, and the falling lady, they are both in oil.

So, for now I am going to sink a jug of Pimms and pick what I am reading next weekend for the Soho Literary Boutique and then for Degenerate Sweethearts & Rebel Scum on 3rd July at the Coach and Horses. I think I’ll preview a load of poems from my new collection The Dead Queen of Bohemia at Degenerate Sweethearts. The Soho Lit Boutique is on the Friday and is partly to launch Dwang 2 so I will read from that then a few from the hardback Urchin Belle. I can hear Joe and Scurvy talking in the garden about knowing what needs to be done, Phil Ochs is playing across the garden, Scurvy ended up in hospital twice last time they went out and he still has a hole in his head, ce la vie, sayonara, sing it again Sam and shimmy always, here is some Gertrude Stein Jxx

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