03/07/2011
June went out pulling the entrails of a JCB monster behind her. She and her shadow kept guard over the contents of a child’s suitcase as the jigsaw sky began to lose pieces and the snakes and ladders board rained snakes. I stayed home pulling hair from a wig made for an aging Tyrannosaurus Rex. I noticed that the jacket carelessly thrown down on the flower bed had grown snake arms – I put the snakes in my hat and went out to collect already missing jigsaw pieces. By this time June had returned with a story of sailing across a cup of coffee.
04/07/2011
June grew fish scale wings and half flew and half swam to work. I stayed in the building I had designed myself after examining frog spawn in a hair net I had borrowed from the ghost of Ena Sharples. My first job was to find a series of stone tablets and then find the words to inscribe on them, instead I found rope that coveted knots and nails that loved the holes they were hammered into. June suddenly came in with several strange creatures arguing in her shopping bag. The express train shuddered to a halt so I pulled the emergency cord.
05/07/2011
The tiles on the floor grew increasingly larger as the morning progressed. I almost couldn’t reach the front door knob as a little girl came to immerse the dog in warm water. Several canine words escaped trapped within bubbles and I crawled on the lounge floor trying to make a window in the floor. I hurriedly drew the carpet curtains as the girl returned hold the void in her outstretched arms; the dog came in immediately after holding her own lead in her mouth. I left the house in search of two large eyes to fit into the newly risen large head.
06/07/2011
A funny night: the sleeping Argus table lamp started flashing and then I found an arrow sticking out of one of my eleven alarm clocks – even so I got up early enough to see our neighbour leave the house dressed as a sheep. I spent most of the day tying pieces of string together, following one particularly long piece to town and back. It was when I was trying to dislodge the invisible man from the sofa I had put on the roof that the invisible woman painted the picture on the top of my head. June pronounced my boxing gloves man and wife.
07/07/2011
I looked into the mirror as I parachuted from one floor to another and saw two paintings on the far wall wave goodbye. I shuffled around in the cellar looking for a small bottle of tablets to paint with and found a small door which hadn’t been opened since the Civil War. Pushing the periscope through the turf I watched a small figure get larger as it got closer. I put the skeletons back in their closets and waited for June. She wore a bow tie above her lips and a false moustache on her neck, I spun the moustache round and round and watched it take off.
08/07/2011
Out of the grey hair portal very early in the morning, I found the bearded demi-god wrapped in a lace curtain onto which a fly had just landed. I removed my head and replaced it with an oversized alarm clock – admittedly clockwork and looking very old fashioned – the shrunken head on the mantlepiece gave the weather. I left the tree through a hole about eight feet above the ground, said good morning to a tabby cat in braces and came back to walk the dog at the bottom of a swimming pool. The clouds had a feathery haircut as I waited for a taxi.
09/07/2011
I walked in concentric circles in the atomic kitchen wearing a pinny with six heads looking in different directions printed on the front. I passed the same spot a multitude of time before deciding to launch a model helicopter from the top of my head. In the evening I went out wearing my shoes as earrings and drank wine as the horizon sunk below the sun. I stuffed a plastic hamburger in a trumpet and then played a silent solo all the way home; June was sat waiting cradling two lampshades and a hole removed from someone else’s wall.
Gerald's space 