'Cos love's such an old fashioned word

AND then... things got crazy.
I am a week behind schedule and vastly overdue some results but I'm happy, for today the craziest week I think I have ever had at work took a turn for the better: for the first time in many days I feel like I am regaining control of my professional life. Projects and plans have had to take a backseat as a time-dependent experiment unexpectedly failed and needed to be urgently repeated, else I would have to manage an unfeasibly high number of stocks for the foreseable future, and not be able to do anything else. Eleven hour days and not much sleep came hand in hand. Today saw the first signs that I might be getting on top of the quadrupled workload - though tomorrow will be the real test as to whether things are now going to plan. Sunday was my only day off in the last two weeks, and it proved to be a good Sunday. I played my guitar in the Pavilion in the morning and then Rachel and I, along with Rachel's friend Helen who was staying with us, went to the Ikon Gallery.

The Ikon is a contemporary art gallery housed in a listed former boarding school nestled amongst the gargantuan redbrick executive office blocks of Brindleyplace, down by the canal. My track record with contemporary art has been hit and miss - I usually avoid it - but I was quite surprised by how much I enjoyed our visit. The entire gallery was exhibiting only the work of Len Lye, a pioneer of motion and kinetic art, including his films and moving sculptures. We began on the top floor, where Lye's kinetic sculptures were given the acres space they deserved - in essence bits of metal that wobbled in remarkably specific ways, they wibbled, wobbled and clashed to make ripples of light in a darkened room, making a calamitous cacophony of sound waves not unlike the wind of a hurricane, and performed movements both mesmerising and unnatural at the same time. They were also in part alarming - asides from the startling bangs they made, I couldn't help but think that if a flapping piece of metal were to do this anywhere else people would not stand and watch but run away, lest they lose an eye, or worse.

Downstairs a handful of paintings, showing off Lye's Māori, Aboriginal and Polynesian influences, played second fiddle to his animations and groundbreaking film work, of which my favourite is the video above. Considering that the film, called Colour Box, was made in 1935, the effects achieved by painting patterns directly on to the film itself, I was really impressed. Note the subtle marketing techniques also...

Anyhoo, there is no point to this post, other than to remark on a Sunday oasis amidst chaos at work. Not to worry, I'm half way out of the dark.