Clive Hicks-Jenkins’ Artlog

Then just as the hands of the clock drew close to closing time, a security guard briskly rounded a corner and approached, and for the first time over the run of the show it was a man unknown to me. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave now sir.” he announced in a business-like way. “The doors are about to close.” Thus it was that I was evicted from the gallery in the closing minutes of my own retrospective exhibition, by a man who had no idea who I was. I didn’t mind at all, rather enjoying both the irony and the return of the anonymity that is my usual condition.

From Clive Hicks-Jenkins’ Artlog.