Pf Art

Working next to London’s Tate Modern art gallery affords one the chance to indulge in a lunches with Ernst’s Celebes. However, the potential for quality time with an exorbitantly priced sandwich (humous, carrot and wilted spinach don’t you know) and a picture of an elephant is not realised on a weekday. Weekday art viewing is marred somewhat by schoolday crowds. Large groups of adolescents pushed to the brink of semenal explosion by raging hormones giggle and flirt their way through their teacher’s stern-voiced attempt to educate them. The lecture is half baked – it must sometimes be soul-destroying to talk at the blank expressions of disinterest on the faces of recalcitrant pupils, knowing that ninety percent of what you say will be ignored by eighty percent of the audience.

This is my inspiration for my next performance art piece. A group of octagenarians in schoolboy outfits will spend all day stood by any painting with a hint of exposed female form. Their noses will be maybe a foot away from any nipple or ripple of flesh. No-one else will ever see the nudity portrayed during this piece of pensioner art. No buttocks will be observed, no pubic hairs in sight. Every few minutes, the group of pube-blocking elders would cackle and nudge each other and point at something rude. Timeless.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.