London Loves

‘What the fuck was I thinking?’ I thought as I wheeled a trolley with five paintings bunjeed to them out of my house. Once again i was travelling to London to hang my work in the Bargehouse on the the south bank., I had decided to take the train up, and it was a gigantic pain in the arse. It has seemed a good idea at the time, but as trundled down my street I was wondering why I hadn’t hired a car and driven them up.

I’d driven up in July, when I really should have taken the train, but there you go. I navigated my way across London - well I booked an Uber but that sounds less dramatic - to the Bargehouse and sweated my way up to the third floor. I had left myself a very tight time limit to get the paintings up as I’d booked the cheapest ticket I could get, and rationalised that if I had to spend extra time hanging the paintings and missed the train then I’d just buy another ticket. This however didn’t prove to be the case, as soon as I git to the BargehouseI had a fevered determination to get the work up and be out in time to get my train, so there was no fucking about.

Cause I’d been before I sorta knew what to expect. I found my space and because of previous wall plugs I was able to hang the paintings in twenty minutes, larvely! I didn’t have room for the fifth painting I#d brought up, and was considering what to do when Leila - the exhibition curator - walked in.

”You’ve got those two walls as well.” she said pointing behind me.“Oh, right.”

So a quick, fevered rearrangement and the paintings had more room to breath and looked great. i left some postcards and put the wonky labels up and I was out! Back in Paddingon for a celebratory Burrito and beer. i do wish I’d give myself a bit more time to appreciate the process. The brief time I was there I loved seeing fellow artists and installing the work, but I had a job to do, and I was back the next night.

The next night for the private view I met up with my mates Simon, Tim and Kate to have a mouch around. Glass of red in hand I felt so comfortable and at home walking around and taking in the art, and got to talk to the artist Barbara Storey about her influences. She mentioned Egon Schiele, which I could definitely see. Amazingly given the quality of Barbara’s work she was exhibiting for the first time, I shook her hand and congratulated her, it’s a hellava achievement.

It’s an odd feeling being in a space with my paintings and other people. The work means a lot to me, and it’s difficult not to use the shield of self-deprecation to bounce off any negative responses. I try not to hover around to hear what people are saying. It’s enough that the paintings are out there, honestly.

I took a quick video sweep of the room and my paintings (below) ending with my mates.

Loved the other artists work, loved the space, and loved being there. Now just have to deal with the logistics of getting the paintings back tomorrow.