SNOWgehl

ORDNANCE SURVEY

It was only a few days ago I saw, on her thigh, a delicate marking of blood vessels. A map I thought. A map that would lead me to the place she lived. How cunning. To display those markings where I could see them and record them and subsequently take advantage of them.

I took a photograph of the delicate tracery and next day followed every curve and winding as I sought out her dwelling.  And sure enough I found it. Tucked away in a dense forest high in the Umbian hills. What a fucking clever bitch, I thought, to leave such an intimate message where only the most observant of lovers would have noticed it.

The next night- as she and her man lay asleep I climbed over the fence, into the driveway, and crouched, hidden from view, beneath her bedroom window. I called her name several times. No reply. I shook the vine that lead up to the bedroom window and called again. “Nina. Nina. I am here.”  Curses. No response. What am I to do. I slid open the iPhone and looked again at the red-lined drawing. And then I noticed- just to the right- a succession of curves (were they a stairway) and that mole with the oblong border- perhaps a door. OK. There were clues here. An indication. OK. Stairs. A door. But where. Fuck fuck fuck. Where in this place is she sleeping. Then I spied the four diverging veins. They suggested an easel. An artist’s easel. Hah! She sleeps in her studio. Her studio Her studio. Where is her studio? I know I know. Up some stairs and there is a door. I know it.  I passed it.

I crept forward- the lush grass muffling my footsteps. I saw the stairs. I saw the door. Tip tap tip tap- up the stairs I went. 

S…l…o…w…l…y  I turned the door handle. So gradually I opened the door.

“What kept you,” she said.

WHORE number 1 - The highlight of my cycle trips through the western quarters of Umbria is the half hour ascent from Magione (by the Lake Trasimeno) to the tiny village of Pantano. By the roadside, like fruit sellers, these beautiful women display their produce- inviting purchase at a nominal price.

WHORE number 3 - Skinny legs and fancy booties

WHORE number 4 - From my cycle trip 10th November 2011 past Pantano and Antognolla

I’ve taken this image from my APES project in Holland.  APES is a movie- but in the form of a 360 degree Virtual Reality panorama. This image is drawn from the data although you won’t find it in the final work. I hope to be exhibiting this work in London shortly.

I’ve taken this image from my APES project in Holland.  APES is a movie- but in the form of a 360 degree Virtual Reality panorama. This image is drawn from the data although you won’t find it in the final work. I hope to be exhibiting this work in London shortly.

I always look for the body beneath the clothing. That’s what we were taught at art school. This woman, who passed me as I sat in La Saletta, reminds me somewhat of Masaccio’s Eve from the Brancacci chapel in Florence.

I scribbled this on a piece of paper while I was on the phone to BA changing the details of my flight to London. They are the whores I meet every week on the road from Antognollo to the lake. They are a friendly bunch. The seated one smiles at me and refers to me as ‘Il cyclista’ or in English ‘The cyclist’.

Obviously it wouldn’t do to take out my sketchbook as I ride pass them. But I do log the details of their shape, costume, hair and demeanour in memory- and scribble my recollections into my sketchbook when I return home.