IkoStar

Ok - time I started going on about something else… and this time it’s bits of art that I keep coming back to again and again etc. These are scattered all over the place, and they rock. Anyone who disagrees is a blithering dick-pot and can go and do something peculiar to themselves. I mean that in a nice, caring, compassionate sort of way obviously.

There’s probably too much ranting etc accompanying each one to fit in one thing, so I’ll break it up.

Anyway, the first one I don’t keep going back to because it isn’t there anymore… and it was only there for a couple of months in the first place. It’s this

Holy crap, I’d never seen anything like that in my life - and never seen people to react to art like that in my life either. They sat there for hours. They lay in front of it. They took their unborn kids to see it. It was this massive primal Wagnerian sun thing and I was gobsmacked.

Olafur Eliasson did it.

But anyway, that’s not really on this list.

The first is this thing in the British Museum that I’ve been visiting for the last 28 years. I’m not going to include photos because it scares the shit out of me - and I don’t want to wind up with a haunted PC. I don’t want to invite that one into my inner space. Here are some links:

Link

Another Link

It belonged (in a sense) to a priest named Horned Jiseff (which may be spelled wrong, but as it was originally written in heiroglyphs, who’s to know?) and I first saw it when I was about 14 - jumbled in down the back with all the other sarcophogi. In the 90s they rearranged the egyptian bit… and it was moved into its own big glass box thing, in the middle at the front - so even as a 14 year old I knew a good sarcophogas when I saw one.

It’s massive - it kindof leans over you and is covered in white heiroglyphs… probably telling you not to look at it or else you’ll be eaten by crocs etc. There’s something nasty waiting for you out there in the nilotic mud… and it’s been waiting a long time… and the hour, my little friend, is gradually winding round…

Actually once you’ve opened the image, you’re doomed anyway because it’s in your cache. Don’t say you weren’t warned.

Or not. He may have been a nice old man with a terrible sense of humour - and to be fair, I’ve never met an Egyptian I didn’t like… although so far that’s only been three of them. They were hilarious. They weren’t all together - two were in the markets at Covent Garden (where I once had a stall) and the other was in Tallinn.

Anyway, there you go. Whenever I go to the British Museum - which I do about once a year, I go to see one thing. That.

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PS:

This is me at my market stall, innocently selling stuff.