Augsburg: Beer for breakfast and other people’s art
I started my sixth day in Augsburg with beer for breakfast. Happily I wasn’t partaking in morning drinking alone as a way of surviving fish-tank living. This was our introduction to a traditional Bavarian breakfast. Since I’d spent half the night up knitting pigs I was up for some revenge on pigkind. So booze and sausages in the morning sounded like a plan. Bring on the Weißwurst! The elements of the Bavarian breakfast are simple. Everything is white, apart from the sweet mustard...
Read MoreWhite Paper Two: Cross Stitch City
Sew. I don’t really sew. The art of brandishing such a tiny needle makes my neck ache just thinking about it. But there is something about a city like Augsburg that beckons different sides of you from the dark places you shoved them and lets them out into the sunshine. In fact I hadn’t been out in the sunshine for a very long time and with a strange city sitting up and begging to be explored, it was about time that changed. There was White Wall to be filled in the town square: So...
Read MoreLondon: The Fourth Plinth: “Knitting girl! Knitting girl!”
Yesterday morning I was art. It was all the fault of Mr Antony Gormley, whose cast-iron sculptures scared the bejesus out of half of London in 2007 by peering down from South Bank rooftops like rusty angels of death.
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