Today got off to a strange start, as I had a strange dream about someone strangling me and awoke to find a hand around my neck, which I fended off with the same immediacy as a moth flying towards my face.  I realised that the person strangling me, was me, because I had been sleeping in a funny position and my left arm had gone numb, therefor giving off the effect of being strangled by someone else.  I cant imagine the reaction of a passer by seeing some kind of bizarre horizontal arm battle in a supersonic shed, first thing in the morning. 

Well today has been difficult,  the blood doesn't seem to be flowing in my legs very well.
I am feeling disorientated and finding it hard to focus, it's also annoying playing basket ball as the hard astro turf floor sound like a big bass drum on impact.  I am finding myself holding off using the loo because the artist here is self conscious of my loo activity and I have  to  say so am I.  I have had some assistance for collection, but passing over a bag with one of my natures calls inside it, just at the point where I have switched on the live web cam, doesn't help my quest for insight.  The door slides partially open, I very discreetly pass the bag  over, only to receive the response

'Oooh that's a big one Matt, you must have been eating well'.  I quickly slide the door and retract to my hole slightly shamed with a damaged ego.  I really don't want to sound crude when I impart a toilet activity to you the reader.  But it is as much a part of this  experience as anything else.  The technique with the chemical toilet and a bio degradable bag was recommended to me by a friend who lived on a house boat.  It feels strange but I am slowly getting accustomed to it.  It doesn't help though when one of the other artists in the gallery turns up and bellows out :
'so how many have you done so far then ? '  

My privacy extends as far as one hanging zebra patterned bed cover. If that comes unattached from the bolt, during a toilet experience on the weekend, then I am doomed.

Well this is it, I am in here for the long haul, the meditation is definitely helping though, but this is one of the toughest challenges I have ever set myself.  Possibly even tougher  than my John O Groats to Lands end journey on my push scooter. 

In a weird way, I am relieved that today has been difficult.  It means, I know what I am working with.  The food donations have been out of this world.  Mervin who runs an art gallery on the seafront has been very helpful.  And my eyes nearly popped out when Bites turned up with a box of healthy vegan grub, thumbs up to Heather Mills for the nosh.  Somewhere in between all of this, there has been pea soup and amazing food from the ' Enter The Clutter'  art collective.  Today has been quiet on the passer by front and my instant plant in a tin is not instant. 

I am missing stand up comedy though and the pub, cant wait to get back on the mic. I would love to get my hands one of those stair exercisers to keep circulating blood in the super sonic shed.



Well today started out with a clear blue sky and what looked like a nice sea breeze.  The evening time was pretty calm, except for the abrupt awakening to the sound of ' you don't make me feel like loving you' and ' let me feel your fantasy' . The blast from both songs had the perspex panels rattling in the greenhouse and a piece of dried bread that had been stuffed into the bird cage fell onto my nose.  There was a ' life is one big stage' feeling about today.  As one person left the gallery another person turned up.  All of them with the intention of chatting and bringing food.  This all happened just at a time when I was down to my last orange.  I don't complain about my food situation, well I say that, I may have a little grumble that I cannot faced another banana sandwich, but its all in jest.  Two amazing girls arrived today one a support worker who makes frames and another who is studying art.  They brought a warm pasta bake and a Roald Dahl book for me to read.  It's my Uncle Oswald one of Roald's saucy books.  The two girls sat down and had a picnic out side the supersonic shed and we all had a very relaxed conversation, with the fresh sea air blowing into the gallery.  After they parted their ways I felt alive again and ready to do some stretching HUP TWO THREE FOUR HUP TWO THREE FOUR .  The symbol's fell off the ceiling this time.  Another chap turned up and he is going to send a yoga master down to the supersonic shed to go through some breathing exercises and stretches.  Cant imagine two people doing sun salutations in here at the same time.  It a very strange experience answering the mobile then having a personal conversation only to realize the web cam is still running.  I  am trying to work out what has been said and whether or not the green house gas was picked up on the mic.  It's even stranger when you call a friend and they can hear you through their computer a few seconds later.  Imagine if my phone had an echoe as well, the conversation would go something like this


Hi Gabriel it Matt

Then Gabriel starts to speak but at this point you also hear

Hi Gabriel it's Matt

Then just as I am about to say something the computer kicks in

Hi Gabriel it's Matt

It's situations like this that take you outside of yourself and make you question what reality actually is. Especially when you are in a supersonic shed that is actually a greenhouse and objects keep falling from the sky (ceiling).  My friend called today to announce that he sometimes goes to the toilet at nightime and switches the light on in the bathroom to check that he has turned the bathroom light off.  Goodnight

Day 4 tomorow



Well this is the first blog under a lamp lit sky, inside a small greenhouse.  At the start of this adventure of the mind, objects kept falling from the ceiling and I clonked my head on the bird cage several times.  The chemical toilet is starting to smell and texts from my friend Toby, stating that he is about to have a shower, long walk, followed by a hot meal and a pint in the pub, do not put me in a good mood.  Add this to the fact that my bunion seems to be getting worse and i can feel a mild toothache creeping up, I am now convinced that the greenhouse effect will kick in very soon.  The big question is WHY, Why am I doing this.  Aside from the obvious, which is, i might flog a few DVDs of my comedy, the truth is that the events of the last two days have put me into a completely different place mentally.  The viewing public who with open hearts, came to say hello and view my art work, were so positive and helpful.  My decision to rely entirely on public donations, to stay alive for the four weeks, would have been a disaster had it not have been for the public bearing gifts ranging from fresh wipes to morning glory 'plant in a tin' and food galore.  One girl called Chi interviewed me to get to the bottom of what my diet is and left me with the promise of healthy food.  She also left her flask with tea and honey and said she would come back in two or three days.  The kiss with Carol Cleveland, from Monty Python, on the other side of the perspex was a true Monty Python experience.  Lets face it, that wouldnt happen in an allotment.  The signatures and art work  on the greenhouse are out of this world. The mirror of reality has been put in front of me now, the weekend had passed, the chaos is over and I now feel like I have been stranded on  a desert island.  All I can hear are the distant sound of the waves on the seafront in Brighton and at night time the sound of screeching cars, from gangs of youths.  The funny thing is I can hear all the conversations from the public at the art gallery window.  The funniest one so far, was a big man holding his child in the air saying ' its a twat in a box' .  For me this is the ideal mind experiment, a great way to interact with the public and exchange conversation and at the same time observe and experience. The interaction with the public and the fact that I am sleeping amongst lots of sharp metal, feels like comedy on stage, there's a wave of energy but if you sit down you could cut yourself.  Communication, happy ness, interaction and struggle a great cocktail.  You cant have an adventure without struggle.  I will be lonely, but there is something about being a hermit, I quite like.  I suppose I am cheating slightly with an astro turf carpet, but if the public stop turning up with food donations then I will need to graze on something. 

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