At art college, I made a skeleton out of fallen twigs of Ash. They were just the right shape and size
and weight for gluing together with a gun. I had fun. Now I could put my knowledge of anatomy into
good use and I completed the whole thing and hung it in a wire bower. I suppose it may have looked
a tad macabre, maybe even jarring in that jaunty way skeletons have, their slightly humorous appearance -
why is that ? -
sometimes feeling like an afront when we present them at the wrong time.
I suppose I shouldn't have left the dear thing in the wardrobe of the flat I flitted from without paying
the last months' rent because it was outrageous.
Close your critical eye; Listen and use every other faculty. Disregard the illusion of progress, Of individuality parading in succes...
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