Friday, 16 December 2016


Bazooka Joe was a type of bubble gum when I was young. 
Last night I ran a workshop and this is what came out of it.

Bazooka Joe

the summer stretched out on long June evenings longer than pink bubble gum drawn between finger and thumb and I was unable to imagine the number of Monday's to come before school reduced the time to forty five minute segments and the night would last longer than the day
The workshop was a repeat of the one I had attended the other week. This time it led me to think about my teenage years. That heady sense of the endless summer.
I also produced this.

A Series of Movements

My hand writing
mother's signature
D. Tobin [Mrs].
The walk to the sports field,
having to stand on the touch line,
a forged sick note went only so far.
Pass, tackle and try.
Knowing the P.E. teacher
had given up on me.
I do not like sport even now. When I was at school I would forge notes to avoid playing. 
Neither piece is finished but I think they stand as they are. Thanks to Paul Mortimer for helping to pull them into shape.
I have just received the new Anna Ternheim live lp and am off to listen to it.
 Until next time.

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