Weekly Diary

16/10/2011

I had to walk June up the road under ink well skies even though it was supposed to be a traditional somnambulist Sunday.  I came back and sat on a closed desk watching flying turtles scurry by.  I then had a drink with a couple of friendly frogs before going out in the garden to lay roads – I pasted the imaginary traffic in my organic stamp album.  I was tidying this away under my invisible model railway when June came in wearing Hermes’ socks.  We went out soon after to buy a box of English beach – June also bought some diamond encrusted biscuits and a bag to put them in.

17/10/2011

I walked June up the school desk hill very early again; we carried between us a model of the Kon Tiki to prove that humanity could have crossed the railway bridge to get to work in times past.  I looked at my wrist where my watch would have been and saw a smiling face – I gave it a string of pearls and moved into the shadows, a helter-skelter still protruding from my top pocket (I called this pocket “Oasis”).  The dog and I swam across one lunar sea after another before I was able to draw smiling faces in my studio.   The postman came to the door without any face at all.

18/10/2011

I was taken ill in the night; the ethereal person said I had accidentally swallowed a dragon – I pulled out a circular saw and a couple of masonry chisels but couldn’t find anything else.  I was unable to eat all day and attached a saxophone to my chest and played a tune every time I rolled over.  June came in with a container of molten lava and I rehearsed for a part in the film “Etna Meets Vesuvius” – the sequel.  I read the script from my bed which had been conveniently placed on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier.  I was just getting off the sleep when the planes returned.

19/10/2011

Still ill but I managed to crawl out of the lagoon I was lying in.  My best friend, The Creature (who worked in a local office as a filing clerk), and I sat staring out of a window until I began to stare into a computer screen.  The sea birds which I had seen in a dream skimming the surface of a slice of toast returned to their nests and I crept downstairs with a fairy tale castle on my shoulders.  June was trying on a Wicked Witch costume and made a cocktail from the residues found at the bottom of her collection of Hammer Horror bottles – I pulled an incubating egg from under my T-shirt.

20/10/2011

I noticed that the floor was strewn with fragments of moon rock.  I picked up the one with a flag in it and threw it over my shoulder for good luck.  A fat cat was curled up on a mail order catalogue as I reached up into the armpit of a passing Jolly Green Giant and pulled out a book.  I promised myself never to read it until I had seen the film and invented a cruet set that would double as earrings.  Pretending to be a medieval prince I waited for my princess to cross the river in a gilded rowing boat before sitting on a pink marshmallow and playing the cymbals.

21/10/2011

I was pasted to the wall several feet above the floor so couldn’t leave the house like I normally would on a Friday morning.  The dragonfly had decided to watch the television instead of crawling out of its pupal case (the lady in a green suit pulled a collection of papers out of her case but that is another story) so I went up the spiral staircase into a room attached to the top of the house like a horn.  I surveyed what I had done in a past existence as a African eland then settled down to work.  June came in later covered with fly paper – I pretended to be a tomato plant.

22/10/2011

I decided to spend all day in a mock medieval dungeon working on my collection of D.I.Y. torture instruments.  Music was playing from a revolving bed of shingle to which a sea sprite’s leg was attached.  I picked up an antique vanity case and could hear the sea (although it couldn’t hear me).  June went out dressed like an ivy clad wall but I stayed inside a glass dome like a stuffed animal all day working on a promising series of giant eyes which open and close in time to the music.  When the fairy dancers arrived we had both been temporarily turned to stone by a passing gorgon.

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About Gerald Shepherd

Gerald Shepherd is a painter, graphic artist, sculptor, digital/multimedia artist, photographer, writer, curator and arts administrator. He has also been involved with science art, performance art, conceptual art, installations and environments (as well as peripheral creative pursuits such as garden design).
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