Acton is an unbeautiful place and we live in cynical times.
Corner shops are unglamorous and formulaic.
This is the Seven 2 Eleven at the end of my road:
Picture it inside: it is entirely regular, with a central aisle shelf of essential tin items, one brand of kitchen towel, toothpaste etc; a rack with crisps; chiller cabinet with chocolate milk and Lucozade and plastic cheese.
This corner shop was robbed a few months ago in a nasty balaclava raid my lovely neighbour was unfortunate enough to be involved in as she walked past.
This evening I went to get some milk and noticed these little pictures with prices on all over the large, tiered chocolate display. Some are resting, others are mounted on lollipop sticks.
It’s hard to see from these pictures but every one is a small original painting. When you pick them up they are stiff with the paint.
‘Look at these little paintings,’ I said. ‘Who did them?’
‘I did’, said the chap. ‘I wanted to make them like naive cave paintings.’
Time, imagination and talent attached (unnecessarily) to a cheap, fast-moving consumer good: sweet.
mumbojumbo 