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Nobody has net linked me into their busty substances before but I remember at art college I went to an exhibition and the artist (a lady of the female gender) noticed me looking at her work (which was a melted child's swing hung in closet full of ashes) and she started chatting about it and asked me on a date.
I would have been a bit more open to it if I didn't notice a photograph of me in her purse.
At that point I thought this was the first time I had met her but I later remembered doing a one day video induction course with her.
The photograph was pulled off the wall when I had my Foundation show and she must have had it with her for about three years.
She was a nice girl.
She never took make up off as such (she just put a fresh coat on) and she would scream if velvet got wet (not a euphemism, I'm talking about clothes, my clothes).
But after three or four more years of her abandoning her Shelleyesque boyfriend to talk to me for hours in the street (often ignoring busy traffic) she sort of lost interest in (or contact) with me.
