July 26th 2011 Tim Candler
Twenty four hours later I have
what I believe is a sealed glass jar inside of which are four Tomato,
juice from several dozen Tomato and hopefully nothing else.
But sometime in February the
Artist will probably have to rush me to the emergency ward as I struggle
with Salmonella or some other rod shaped bacterium. So probably
best to place the precious jar on a high and visible shelf as a reminder
of an extraordinary perseverance Edmund Hillary might appreciate.
Indeed when I die I want that glass jar beside me.
Then there is the issue of title.
"Toms 7/11" strikes me as a totally inadequate description of the hours
spent in turmoil, worry and sweat. Not to mention a scalded knee
and something happened to the bottom of my feet, which makes walking around
without shoes tricky.
More desperate still are the eleven
remaining glass jars. They are laughing at me, but fortunately they have
been returned to the cupboard that has a door which can be closed.