death plunge

I'm still in a blue funk at work, team.  Hence, I'm giving the blog the short shrift and devoting any spare minutes to analysing that god-awful prickly scalp feeling I'm experiencing as a result of nervousness and stress (big thing happening later this week that I won't tell you about because it's both confidential and boring - a combo I never thought I'd meet).  Been closely considering my prickly, queasy tummy too.  I hope that some of you can relate, as it is always nice to feel (a) that you're not alone; (b) that someone else has made mistakes before you and someone else will make mistakes after you; and (c) that this, too, shall pass as it has for many others. 

The shower-steam countdown continues.  33 working days my calculations on the shower door told me this morning.  21 June cannot come fast enough.

THIS WAS TAKEN BACK IN MARCH, OF COURSE.  WHEN THE WEATHER WAS ACTUALLY REASONABLE, NICE EVEN

ANYWAY: one of the highlights of this weekend was briefly dropping into the White Cube.  I got all disturbed and icky feeling by the Gilbert & George London Pictures.

GILBERT & GEORGE, 'LONDON PICTURES' (2011), SOUTH GALLERIES, WHITE CUBE BERMONDSEY. VIA

That's a taster - the London Pictures was an enormous collation of headlines, featuring repeated words and phrases.   Extremely confronting as we walked into the White Cube's South Galleries.  In particular, I found myself stuck on the usage of the phrase "death plunge".  Who knew that there were many headlines featuring "death plunge"? 

I'm still experiencing an active, offensive recognition that I was drawn to the overuse of "death plunge" and it's probably exactly the sort of macabre headline that would draw me into a shoddy, voyeuristic Metro or Daily Mail article. 

Another piece currently showing in the gallery:

LIU WEI, 'UNTITLED' (2011) VIA

Honestly, a sculpture made from paperbacks?  Loved it.  Loved it.  It has a very distinct feeling of sinking and *almost* horror but it also made me exclaim with delight when I worked out the medium.  I wanted so badly to touch it, to explore the cityscape. 

Full disclaimer: I know nothing about art so this is a blind ramble.  Sometimes a quick visit to a gallery or a museum can leave me cold, but I did particularly like this piece and felt strongly about the other, so you get my wee bleatings about it.  I've been promising myself I'll do this more often. The checking out art, that is.  Not the bleating. 

And a final side note on the theme of local representative art: Mayoral elections in London this week.  Someone in my neighbourhood expressed an artistic timely reminder (of sorts) on freshly painted hoarding:

'BORIS MADE ME DO THIS...'.  FOR NON-LONDONER TYPES, BORIS JOHNSON IS THE INCUMBENT CANDIDATE CURRENTLY EXPERIENCING A BIT OF HEAT OVER HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH OL' RUPERT MURDOCH.  TOO LEGIT TO QUIT THOUGH, HE SAYS (I MAY BE PARAPHRASING)