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21-04-2011 - Written by Alby

Great night great show great gallery great area great company great Britain

Well I must say,when I drove down the Corsican mountains at 3 in the morning to go to Bastia, to fly to Paris,to fly to London,I was already engaged to enjoy myself.I revelled in a long wait in Paris to catch up on the latest in luggage design and airport security and I felt jolly safe because its always a worry to hear about all those terrible "different" people in the world, all those fanatics, well it does make one worry and when we are in a public area its nice to have ones army bodding about the place in fine big boots and machine guns which are surely the latest cry,a machine gun I probably paid for somewhere along the line,I did not mention it, I did not ask to borrow it.But isnt life worrying. I mean even in France the Socialists well tipped for doing well in the local elections,actually did not do to badly. when the 3 major? channels which are obviously influenced by the general? who is in direct contact with the monkey? himself gave free extended coverage to that very charming lady marie Le Pen to help keep the France a very French place.Which means it must re-write its history to re -invent from where its riches and culture lays.This lady is a waste of Grandads burried in sodden obviously forgotton places across Europe and beyond.Meanwhile I sat on a tube train heading towards Canning town. Around me in the carrige a blend of all the world together, I did not need to ask where these people come from I know they are from London.As I wheeled my suitcase bumpty bump over the cobbles down a part of Brick Lane past the Begal shops,, Bangledesh restaurants and vintage clothing shops, crossing all people suited and unsuited,different tissues different colours,the febric of society(It`s cliche,but thats what it is bud!) People mingling, punked mohicans crossing burkas,I found all that picked up my spirits after 14 hours travelling.I turned up to Brick lane gallery, sat up the ink dress, the last thing to get ready .The cool efficent girls at the gallery welcomed me and I left them to the picture hanging, which Was perfect.I trundeled and turned on circle and district out to a friends(Cheers David Carter) relaxed in London in a house of joy with chickens in the garden. Next day met up with my daughter with all her sisters and grandaughter.Good Ol`London sightseeing.A trip to the Natural History museum. Nature, Eveloution,up to the point the monkeys came down from the trees, a time when we could exprime clearly with a bit of bare arsed cheek.A rummour that one countrys people had the firm intention of going back up the tress, led to an action by the government to try to sell up all the tress but the monkeys were not having any of it.Meanwhile...that night at the gallery well I had a hoop of a time, good atmospherte and again the girls from the gallery were marvellous,to see the pictures on the wall in London my home town for the first time, other than of course the mythic Shakespeares project.Saw my home, saw my family this on the walls is all our lives as I see them and it is for all to see. when we have done this and stood together it is a success.Thankyou mr David Marshall,I know you are a bussier man than I.Thankyou mr Robert Spencer ,for in us we share a contact where there is not enougth on paper.Thanks jacques Pasquier.Thankyou sister Michelle for all your very fine work setting this up in my abcence. Thanks girls from driving from Devon Big howdy doody thanks to mr Stuart Carter.I just cant find the colours to tell you......


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