We were accompanied by a black stray cat, through an inner-west street to Adrian’s new home in Burwood and it was only with great reluctance that I left him at the front door. Now the odd one out in the household (having defected to the Psychology department) Adrian greeted us as his true alter-ego, Chopper dressed as a council worker. In a case of identity crisis my alter-ego had an uncanny resemblance to my regular self. After guzzling the last home-cooked pizza and having sadly taken a day-pass on the wagon, it was a quiet evening and we soon had to head back to civilization (the city).
Lastly that evening, was the very final (really?) event at Lanfranchi’s. While I questioned the veracity of its claim as the ultimate end, the whole space was most certainly emptied out and I guess the entire Sydney thrift and bower bird demographic had already gone crazy at the auction (including one Señor Rigozzi). Thankfully I only knew about it when it was too late or the studio would have filled up fast with junk… I mean, invaluable art materials. It was crowded by the time we got there. People were in good spirits, happy at the prospect of being out of the rain, pleased by the donation (read-free) entry and forgiving of the $4 cans of Toohey’s New. It was strange to see people who I could never have imagined in the space for an art event or performance night hobnobbing with the freaky artists. A rather good DJ, but my state of mind was most convivial to some upbeat dub. So there you have it.