It all started when I cycled home with Marilyn Monroe under one arm and King Kong under the other. Marilyn was bigger than in real life and King Kong much smaller than in the movie. Cycling over the cobbles of Wapping wharf was tricky. But having managed the weekly shop along the Commercial Road from Sainsburys to the Isle of Dogs this was a comparative doddle.
I’d cut them out of wood, and then painted them black and white. They’d been for the AA’s Hollywood fancy dress ball. Now it was over and I was taking them home.
The only space we had for these oversize cut outs was in the hall and that’s where they stood. So every time I unlocked the door I got a shock. I had to do a double take to make sure King Kong wasn’t going to attack me.
It was Good Friday and I remember walking back from the workshop with the crucifix over my shoulder it was big and heavy and painted red and green. It was about 7.30 in the evening and as I walked along Camden High Street a guy, who Flann O’Brien would have said was 80% wall, shouted “ bloody hell he’s risen from the dead already”. He took another sup and within seconds he became 100% pavement.
Back at the squat I struggled with the crucifix to get it up the stairs. After several tricky manoeuvres I managed to get the cross to the first floor and out onto the Regency balcony where I nailed an enormous pound note onto it. It stayed there, crucified, over Easter.
That was then. This is now.