3 laps just over 30 mins… illusion Parc… White Merc parked up ahead… Christmas Eve mother taking time out before the storm? Lakeside fountain still not working… Covidium still running riot and a Brexshit trade deal agreed to give Mps well earned Christmas break….
Strava didn’t upload… approx 1hr 4 mins to 10k point… some work to do to get to under an hour… hip pain… some students took a tripod out to the. M180 field next to me when I arrived… girlfriend or mother waited in car… Hi vizzers next to Morrisons on path looked on as I passed… nearly 2 weeks since Mike left the world… Societas X for company today… A Greek poem of tears… X is floating across Sweetdale Croft drain… there is nothing I can do now
Exhibition link: http://www.tailofthepup.co.uk/Marc%20Renshaw.html
Tail of the Pup is a d.i.y artists’ project space based in the outer boroughs of East London. Broadcasting from a converted shed that has a sleek and designed exterior that deliberately contrasts with its ramshackle and bricolaged interior.
The Pup aims to host a diverse programme of artists, designers and cultural producers who will be invited to present significant aspects of their practice, whether it is their work, their theoretical concerns, their experiences, their influences or even their digressions. It is up to them.
We will happily accept high and low culture, mix the sacred and the frivolous, the mainstream and the marginal, the formal and the vernacular, the banal with the spectacular as well as the local and the international.
Marc Renshaw has a long-established interest in non–places and transitional zones which include motorway services, airports and business parks. His local research point is The Europarc, marketed as ‘the flagship business park of North East Lincolnshire’ and its surrounding environs. The site is a ten minute drive from his rural Lincolnshire home. For Tail of the Pup, Marc focuses upon a 38.5 mile stretch of road – the A180/M180, which runs from the business park to the Doncaster (Hatfield) motorway services. Using the road as an identity projection device, the artist travels along this relentless path to nowhere – documenting his findings in the form of digital drawing, film and text…
Tail of the Pup Project Space
Not an easy run this evening, but completed three laps in around 45 minutes – although I can’t be entirely sure…. E waited in the car for me… flickers of thoughts… lights on in the new building along Innovation Way… hi viz guys… no Stan and Dave… thankfully… more litter seems to be accumulating in the hedgerows… mainly blue Covid masks…
3 laps and approx 38 mins… the first run I’ve had since Mike died…I gaze at a bit of tarmac in the hope of finding an answer… I can hear the thudding bass of a car heading along the A180…who said life is fair… Lifemare…remembered Shoprite days… masked faces at the Europarc bus shelters… a woman smokes another cigarette in the gutter…. X is hanging around the perimeter of the Lenzig building… a white Ford van…I remember the smell of a petrol lawnmower…. the lamp above me has gone out as the sound of sweeping echoes across the motorway.
Odd times… but I ran anyway. Forgot to press stop on Strava, so no doubt she will tell me that I could do better… X2 laps… life isn’t always
Just the 2 laps today as I forgot to fill my water bottle… Friday evening… traffic scrapes the A180…. I lean against the car… Mars is dimming… L.. the moon…. purple plastic… Beechwood waits redundant… Mock down… A feint whiff of drug smoke bayfrom the car parked over the way… illusions… fade out fast… X is transcending the broken freeway
3 laps… numb…. X zooms in on me… I look to my right at a bright star and then back at my phone… I know its not long now yessir… I will miss you gentle humble man.
8.15…post – run. 3 laps. 30 mins ish. Strava seems to think I had a better run today… it was tougher that is for sure…. water fountain company lorry driver gave me a wave… I don’t need socialised media to give me my dopamine hits.. The Beechwood Farm pub waits in lockdown limbo…. a dog walker packs her fluffy-tailed pets into her people carrier…. a cleaner sprays anti bac on the morrisons factory window whilst checking out the load arriving at the security gates…. A grim guy, druggie yellowing skin, hood up walks in the direction of the Daniels soup factory… orange polythene caught in the hedgerow…. sponsorship is slow… hey and ho… waiting for a personal windfall…. the pie de mag has returned, having greeted me pre-run… my hands are warmer…. I must call mum… a distant siren along the Humber… A180… X scurries around the scaffolding…
Just the 2 laps tonight, slightly addled mind….eurpoarc bus passes along slipway to the left… my left arm illuminates red… a traffic cone peeks back at me from behind a grassy ridge… nothing will become of nothing… so the saying goes… car sharers pull up swapping vehicles and saving a few quid on the bridge of Humber*… Digital Virus Interchange…. all lights on in the lockdown Beechwood Farm pub tonight… X fades out in a proliferation of WiFi. I can’t claim this or that. Said. Marcc.