LIVING ARTWORKS

Today I was due to have a Private Tour of the Vermilingua Contemporary Gallery – I had even prepared some positive things to say when I didn't understand an exhibit – but it didn't happen.

Instead, I have been subjected to a Weird Experience, not unlike meeting a smaller, fur-covered version of Gilbert and George… 

Nërp called me into the dining room, saying there was something Wilson wanted me to see.

Upon entering, I was immediately aware of Byron and Wilson sitting in silence at the dining table, wearing paper hats, with Pterry between them.

Wilson was staring intently at an old fashioned cobbler's last, while Byron had a pencil poised over a blank paper pad.

I regarded them for a moment, then asked, 'Hi boys! What's going on?'

Byron immediately wrote on the pad: "Hi boys! What's going on?"

I asked a couple more questions, but was met with total silence, save for the faint sounds of Byron's pencil scratching on paper as he transcribed everything I said.

Eventually Nërp caught my eye and beckoned me outside, where he explained, 'It's called Performance Art, and the two performers are Living Artworks. They do weird things to mess with your mind.'

'Oh!' I replied, 'Did Wilson explain why they're doing this?'

'Um… no, not really' the android continued, 'But he did hint that it was to prepare you for your Conducted Tour of the Gallery – which, by the way, has now been rescheduled.'

'Is Pterry an active participant in this… um, thing?' I enquired.

'Not exactly,' Nërp explained, 'he's really only there because he still cries when he's left alone…'

In my day, this might have been called a Happening. I would probably have

fingered the Hippy Bell hanging round my neck, nodded appreciatively and said, 'Cool, man. Way cool!' – but that was then…

FINAL TOUCHES

The lads are in the Gallery making final adjustments to the signage and so on before next month's Grand Opening.

Wilson says that tomorrow he will give me a Private Tour of the gallery, so there's something to look forward to… or not.

I have a nasty feeling that after I've taken the tour Wilson will interrogate me – he'll want my honest opinion on what I thought of the Gallery and the exhibits.

I just hope I can come up with something diplomatic to say – something positive and tactful.

I'd better start thinking about that now, so I'm not caught off-guard when the time comes…

MAJOR CULTURAL EVENT

When the Museum of Old Stuff and a Robot opened, there were lights, a PA system, speeches – even Uncle Zoltan on the roof playing on his drums!

For the opening of his Gallery, The Vermilingua Contemporary, though, Wilson has opted for a more laid-back and sophisticated approach, marking the opening only with announcements in The Times Educational Supplement, Artists & Illustrators, The Artist, Sight & Sound and ArtReview, as well as in the Local Press.

Byron proudly told me that he and W think this could 'Really put Uckfield on the map' in the same way that the Turner Contemporary has revived the fortunes of Margate…

The Bees have grudgingly agreed to enforce parking charges, and Uncle Z is once again manning the cash register on the Admission Desk – no one in their right mind would risk trying to slip past him without paying! 
___________________

Provisional Opening Day will be 11 MARCH – please put the date in your diary!

A DELICATE DELIVERY

Early this morning an enormous pantechnicon arrived to deliver a packing crate larger than I have ever seen before!

At first I feared, now the house is full of cardboard boxes containing the displaced exhibits from his Museum, Wilson was going to ask me to move into the crate and live there, but I was relieved to learn that the van

will return tomorrow to collect it and refund W's deposit.

Nërp removed one of the crate's end panels and we all trooped in to see what had been delivered – once the protective wrapping had been stripped away, several beautiful and expensive-looking glass display cases stood revealed.

'Vitrines!' Wilson exclaimed, 'They're called Vitrines – aren't they fab?'

'Were they very, um, expensive?' I enquired – Wilson replied that they were worth every penny.

Honestly, it's not the pennies I'm worried about, so much as the pounds – I expect I shall find out exactly how worried I should be once my VISA bill arrives…

SIGNWRITING FOR FUN AND PROFIT

Wilson is putting the finishing touches to the exterior by painting the name of the Gallery on the side wall.

He seems very skilled in the art of lettering, but I have absolutely prohibited him from painting the name of his gallery anywhere on the car. I might be persuaded to allow a small window or bumper sticker, but absolutely nothing more!

When he opened his Museum he had a big Opening Ceremony, with speeches and Uncle Zoltan on the roof performing interminable drum solos – I hope we're not going to have to go through all that again.

A BIG CLUE

At last, I think I know what's going on!

I asked Wilson directly, and he confirmed that he was indeed opening a gallery of contemporary art.

He confided that he was initially going to call it the Wilson Contemporary, but feared that its initials – W.C. – might cause a measure of unwelcome mirth… and moreover, as it was mostly Byron's idea he thought that maybe he should share the credit by using a name that included them both.

REFURBISHMENT

The lads are cladding the walls of the shed with artificial brick panels, and I have to say it's looking very good!

I might have a word and ask them whether they'd do one of the walls in the living room the same… but I don't suppose I could afford their rates.

I must say that the Museum has been completely transformed, both inside and out – although it's not very big, the new wall finish and colour make it look much more spacious and airy.

If only I knew what they were going to use it for – I hope it's not a Drinking Club or some kind of Clip Joint!

RELOCATION

The boys have now packed all the exhibits from the Wilson Vermilingua Museum of Old Stuff and a Robot into cardboard boxes –  and moved them into the dining room.

It puts me in mind of the time Wilson started his own Self Storage business, when every room in the house was crammed with boxes of strangers' stuff – I didn't enjoy that, but at least Wilson was getting paid for it.

In other news, Wilson is still waiting for his first BorisBoard®™ order to pour in. 

He's putting a brave face on it, but I think he's starting to accept that it's not going to make him rich…

WORK BEGINS

The boys are busy re-painting the Wilson Vermilingua Museum of Old Stuff and a Robot – although I don't yet know why.

The chosen colour – White With A Hint of Curiosity – looks very clean and fresh, and it does make the shed look very bright –  eye-catching, even… and I don't mean that in a wholeheartedly good way.

Still, both the lads are full of enthusiasm, and Wilson says that once the paint on the outside is dry they can start on completely refurbishing the interior.

A TRIP TO THE DIY STORE

I've driven Wilson and Byron round to Green's DIY in the village to buy some white paint. 

Exterior paint seems very expensive – but as long as whatever Wilson has planned to do with it distracts him from his fear of being deported, I really don't mind.

Of more concern is the time it's taking to choose the right shade of paint – I'd like five minutes alone with the marketing guy who came up with the 'White With A Hint Of…' concept!

Anyway, they have finally decided on a colour which describes itself as 'White With A Hint Of Curiosity' so now it remains only to pay, drive home and learn where it is to be applied…

THE BOYS ARE BACK

Since there has been no sign of the Police, Immigration Department, UK Border Force or any other official body checking up on him, Wilson has finally judged it safe for him and his brother Byron to emerge from the Brexit Shelter and resume life above ground – albeit, he spends quite a lot of time looking nervously over his shoulder, and always checks the spy-hole before opening the front door.

W is finding it very difficult to get warm after his chilly subterranean sojourn and insists on wearing a shawl until his body temperature returns to normal – a process he is encouraging by consuming copious amounts of very hot coffee laced with gin.

During their time underground there was much opportunity for thinking and talking, and Byron spoke at length about a subject close to his heart – Modern Art – reminiscing fondly about our visit to the Turner Contemporary Gallery in Margate last year.

Wilson has told me that these chats have given him a Brilliant Idea to generate some income – just to tide him over until orders for his BorisBoard®™ start to pour in. 

He hasn't told me what the idea is, but obviously, I'm expecting the worst…

STRAIGHT FROM THE ANTEATER'S MOUTH

Mole has just returned, covered in mud, to pass on a message from Wilson!

Unused to being the centre of attention, he was breathless with excitement, and Dave and Neil also basked in their new-found fame.

Eventually, Mole gathered his thoughts and, taking a deep breath, finally relayed Wilson's message: 

'He says he'll think about it.'

Not quite the message I'd hoped for, but positive nonetheless. 

Anteaters are not intended to live underground for extended periods of time, so I'm hopeful that he'll risk emerging from his sanctuary soon.

I'll pop out in a minute and waft some freshly-brewed coffee with marshmallows fumes outside the entrance to the Shelter, and I might mention that the next episode of Star Trek: Picard is available – maybe that will do the trick…

ALL CLEAR?

This morning I sent Mole the Mole out to the Asteroid Shelter (AKA Brexit Shelter) to inform Wilson and Byron that there had be no sign of, nor communication from, the UK Border Force or the Immigration Department, and perhaps it was safe for them to come out now.

Dave the Pig and Neil the Sloth kept Mole company – not for anything they could contribute to the situation, but neither of them gets out much, and I thought the fresh air might do them good…

BEES' BLOG

Hello, welcome, we are 🐝 Polly and 🐝 Billi The Bees, and we're a bit worried…

As you know, even in the face of Death by Pesticide we Bees like to put a Brave Face On Things, to smile through the tears, so to speak, because as Ms Davina McCall once said, 'Nobody wants to see a Sad Bee' – but there's just no getting around this.

We have just left the EU, with all its brilliant wildlife and animal protection programmes and policies – and because of that our dear friend Wilson has gone into hiding, living underground and eating worms!

Now we're not in the EU any more, Wilson is certain he's about to be deported to Costa Rica as an Undesirable Alien… or possibly an Illegal Immigrant, we can't remember which.

Anyway, we can't bear to think of him and his poor brother Byron living in the damp earth and eating invertebrates, so we're going to have a word with his New Dad to see if he can't tempt him out and reassure him.

So, we've been The Bees and we're not happy. 

We're actually extremely anxious, perturbed, concerned, distressed, fretful and agitated. Also apprehensive, fearful and afraid.

We'll probably see you again next month, and until then, BEEEEE KIND WHEN POSSIBLE!

(PS – it's always possible…)

BREXIT

Tomorrow night at 23h00GMT the UK officially leaves the European Union 🇪🇺 😢

Wilson is convinced that he will immediately be deported, so he and his half-brother Byron have decided to seek sanctuary by hiding in what used to be his Asteroid Shelter.

Honestly, I blame myself for letting him watch The Diary Of Anne Frank on tv over the weekend, but I can't change that now.

Mole the Mole, skilled in the art of underground living, has imparted much valuable advice – although most of it concerns choosing the best kind of worms to eat.

I can't see Wilson, a staunch vegetarian, being prepared to do that…

PICARD

Wilson has got a lot on his mind at the moment. 

The UK officially leaves the European Union on Friday night, and he is convinced that by Saturday morning officials from the Immigration Office will arrive, tear him from my side and deport him to Costa Rica.

Not that he's got anything against Costa Rica – it's just that he's never been there in his life and won't know anyone.

So in an attempt to distract him, we all settled down to watch Star Trek Picard, the new Star Trek series which sees Jean-Luc retired and farming wine on a vinyard in France. 

W celebrated by opening a bottle of Chateau Picard Labarre vintage 2267!

I have no idea and I didn't ask, but it was delicious – full-bodied and fruity, and gratifyingly free of ants!

I'm sure W's fears about deportation are mostly unfounded, although in these times who can be certain? 

If he does get repatriated, he won't even be able to finish watching Star Trek Picard…

BORIS-BOARD

Following his recent interview with Uckfield FM, Wilson has come to realise that – being altogether too honest, principled and trustworthy – he is not really cut out for a life in politics.

Moreover, he has confessed to me that fees accruing from Sloth Party membership are 'disappointing', so he has dissolved the Party (much in the manner of Change UK) and taken steps to de-register The Sloth Party with the Electoral Commission. 

Instead, he has reverted to his role of inventor/entrepreneur and designed: THE BORISBOARD®™

This is simply a darts board bearing a likeness of the eponymous leader looking smug and stupid. I say 'simply' but Wilson assures me that – like all Great Inventions – its beauty lies in its simplicity…

He predicts 'Brisk sales' of the BorisBoard®™ to disgruntled Labour Party and Liberal Democrat supporters.

Also paid-up ex-members of The Sloth Party, to whom he will offer a 'modest' discount.

DOORSTEPPED

Early this morning there was a knock at the door.

Wilson, who was in the middle of his breakfast, was a little bit vexed by the interruption, but brushing toast crumbs from his mouth he went to answer the door – to a journalist from our local radio station!

In the run-up to the last General Election, Wilson observed many politicians being doorstepped by tv journalists, and at first he employed the Jeremy Corbyn tactic, saying, 'Hello, so lovely to see you. Goodbye!' but after a moment's reflection he remembered how that had turned out on voting day and switched to a more Boris-like strategy.

Ruffling the fur on the top of his head, he began smiling and flirting with the journo, who had come to interview him not about – as he'd feared – his and Nërp's fly-posting, but to canvass his opinion on whether he aspired ever to be Prime Minister.

In my time, I've heard several MPs vehemently deny ever wanting to become PM – including Boris Johnson and Margaret Thatcher – before going on to do exactly that! 

Wilson's denial, though, had a distinct ring of truth and sincerity – two qualities which in themselves should be sufficient to exclude him from a career in politics.

He told the interviewer, 'Anyone who aspires to be Prime Minister should, on those grounds alone, be ruled totally unsuitable for the post!'

He rose enormously in my estimation at that point – he is indeed wise beyond his years!

Unlike most recent Prime Ministers…

SLOTH PARTY POSTER CAMPAIGN

Wilson knows that I strongly disapprove of Fly Posting, but since he and Nërp are sticking his Sloth Party posters only on the newly-constructed Uckfield Wall I suppose I can't really complain.

The whole purpose of the Wall is to be covered in graffiti, so I dare say a poster or two won't make much difference…

FREE BADGE

Should you wish to walk around wearing a badge proclaiming you to be a MUG, this is your big day!

Wilson is certain that many of his friends and readers will want to avail themselves of such an opportunity, so he is giving you each a free Make Uckfield Great badge… I'm not quite as confident!