The Turner Prize awaits

I took this short film of waves breaking on the shore in Madeira where I recently had a pleasant sojourn with someone whose name I can’t mention as she’s taken out a super-injunction preventing me from disclosure.

I can imagine this film playing repeatedly in a continuous loop on a small TV screen in the middle of a huge otherwise empty room in an art gallery. It could symbolise the tedium and repetitive nature of life. Just the type of pretentious, sterile bollocks that passes for modern art these days.

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