A week or so ago I made a certain tongue in cheek prediction about the surrealchemical follow through that would most likely result from the advent of what I dubbed the Falmouth Bay cattything. Guess what was advertised in the pub wherein Maxy, Corinna and I found ourselves in the Holloway Rd last saturday night?
I kid ye not— the very moment I read this post, a book fell off my shelf. I went to have a look; it was my copy of Steven Cousin's monograph on the art of Tony Shiels, and open on the page of a drawing of Mr Punch!
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