Back in Mexico City where the gallery has become a place there across the square
where scruffy dogs meander, old men play chess and later bash out funky songs in
trios as the sun comes down. Inside there is the Body of the Bench, made in concrete
from the plans that did come through fine after all.
Right now it all seems pretty miraculous.
It’s -26C. It sounds much scarier than it is. In reality it means that prepping to go outside is a lengthy business and the nose freezing inside is an intriguing sensation. Am being silent and reclusive. Breaking from one Bed to make music or sleep in the other. The light is more than stunning. So quiet.
London surely reaching for the sky exponentially.