It’s possible this Blog is becoming fixated with my wife’s old school friends, but that must continue, as news has reached me that Lizzie-Price-the-school-friend, has morphed into Elizabeth-Price-the-artist and, more importantly now one of four Turner prize nominees.

That prize is the one won by Tracey Emin, Damien Hirst and other famous producers of unusual or just plain weird art, depending on your point of view.

The prize for Damien Hirst was won for a shark, cut in half and pickled in a large tank. Now, I’m pretty open minded about art, but in my view, things not suited to pickling are large marine animals and eggs.

Admittedly I’ve never seen the former but I once tried the latter as there was a habit in some pubs to have a jar of them on the bar.

The purpose those serve is to gauge whether you have drunk too much.  Shouting, dribbling and talking crap is a good clue, but not a 100% reliable indicator in my case.

A better flag of drinking too much is the point at which pickled eggs start to look delicious, you order them and they taste OK.

I once did, then did, and they didn’t

Tracey Emin’s was either the unmade bed or a tent affair with the names of everyone she has ever slept with written on it – haven’t bothered to check which.

My bed is mostly unmade, so I fit in with the artistic community nicely there. Fabric with the names of all the people I’ve ever slept with though would be more of a small windbreak than a tent – and even then, only if written in the same size font as MCDONALDS or HARD ROCK CAFE signs.

My wife Emma was actually in the same art lessons at school and Lizzie  used to help with her drawings from time to time. The key point here is that we may still have some.

In the event that she wins the Turner prize, these could be worth good money so I’ve sent Emma up to the loft to see if she can track them down.

In an encouraging sort of way, I have told her only to come back when she either has the art or feels – as recompense for a missed opportunity – she can concede to my every demand for the next month, sordid or otherwise.

No result yet and not looking good on either front. She has asked me to bring her dinner to her up there.


There is a HARD ROCK CAFE in New York incidentally that the Band Terravision, who are from Yorkshire in the frozen wastelands of Northern England once took a disliking to as it sounded all soft and Southern.

They scaled the outside of the building and removed the H to leave a more appropriate sounding ‘ARD ROCK CAFÉ sign to fit in with their Northern dialect.

Now that is Art