(no subject)

I think Paul summed up the exhibition opening best when he said "I could do that myself, and better!". Rebecca's paintings were depluralised, one plywood and resin construct leaning sadly against the wall. A row of screen-printed shopping bags, one stuffed with wilting celery. Thread embroidery drawings which reminded me of primary school craft class.

I didnt take any photos in case I inadvertently offered the artists encouragement.

Paul and I decided that a drink would be the best salve for our scarred retinas, and so we trundled off to Foci (faux-kai? fucky?) for a glass of relief. No sooner had we inhaled our wine than Alan paddygrappler called to say he was ready to finish work, which usually means he's alcohol deficient as well. Tonight was no exception, as we drained a very nice bottle of cab.merlot outside the BarFormerlyKnownAsDorothy's.

And that was it for my night. Alan and Paul went off for a romantic dinner somewhere, I went home and chatted online for the first time in about 2 weeks. Including a nice wee email volley with one VERY NAUGHTY Alaskan, who should have been in bed asleep.

Icons...

For the lovely paddygrappler.