Life sometimes reminds me of a Panini sticker album. You know the names, now collect the faces. I had read about Alastair MacLennan in Sarah Lowndes’ Social Sculpture and how his critical-absurdist live art interventions inspired an entire generation of artists.
Now 80, he had been invited over by Cathy Wilkes to respond to her show at The Hunterian. She spoke of how there was no one else like MacLennan in Belfast. She would see him from the bus wearing a literal full-size target, a Zen critique of the absurdity of sectarianism.
Last Saturday, I cycled to the Lillie Art Gallery in Milngavie for to see the work of the Glasgow Photography Group, the local photographers who helped lay the foundations for Streetlevel Photoworks.
The show features Alan Dimmick, here freshly tanned from his holiday, showing how he can change a film in 8 seconds.
Earlier in the day I had been in Elder Park for the Parkrun. Alas, the combination of running and cycling caused my knee to hurt.
I don’t believe in luck but shortly after touching the nose of Greyfriars Bobby I briefly met my favourite literary critic,
, at Edinburgh Book Festival.Govan awaiting the new bridge.
Bored by our planet.