I was only at the Drypnz exhibition opening at Manky Chops for about ten minutes because hipsters were smoking indoors (ooh! rebellious!) and my associates proved susceptible, but I had a good squizz at the paintings and the collection of tiny ink drawings and painted chunks of wood. He’s overly fond of pale circleheads with painful pouts, but I suppose if you’ve got something, you should run with it.
Luckily Pippa was supermarket shopping, so that filled up the next four hours.
There’s another creative writing pasteup by Schlott on the wall alongside the road that goes from the Terrace to Boyd Wilson Field. It’s a simple thing to write something interesting on two pieces of paper and stick it to a wall, but it’s hard to do well.
I didn’t have much sympathy for the Watermark Boutique Hotel a few months ago, but I read their slogan again on the fencing surrounding the vacant lot where tens of millions of dollars worth of apartments ought to be: “A Life Above the Ordinary.” There’s something fundamentally un-NZ about that attitude, isn’t there? It really ought to read “We’re In a Huge Hole In the Ground -Come Join Us.”
I spent a happy afternoon painting over patches of bare weatherboard on the side of my flat. It’s like painting Weetbix. I hope it dried before it started raining, the weather’s not going to let up until at least Tuesday.
