At 3pm I lifted the Panda head for the last time in this iteration. It has been hot and Panda is strangely consuming. Very hard to think wide through such a narrow gap, and masks always bring a version of insanity.
As soon as the curtain was closed the process of deconstruction began. Ava let me go off to the lido though. She had allocated time to pile it all up. Stegosauruses in a row. All the cereal boxes nearly packed. Bucket cats arranged and stowed. Balloons popped.
We had a boy we wanted to give a balloon to. He had been a regular, full of personality and play and with a great fun mum. He had told Ava that he was off to the lido, so it made sense for me to grab some balloons and take them down to the pool to give him a memento.
Panda is a friendly animal with a chainsaw and a shop where nothing is for sale. Al is a bearded dude in a flatcap in his late forties. Walking from the installation to the pool the difference between Panda and Al began to settle on me.
The pool itself was child soup. I am surprised the water wasn’t bright yellow. For a moment I stood clutching my balloons trying to work out which one we wanted to give the potato to, but I realised that I would have been better off coming down with the head on. I abandoned the idea and just had a swim instead. My relaxing fantasy of a peaceful float was absolutely dashed though. Screaming urchins everywhere. The pool is shallow throughout. There is no escape from the thrashing monsters. After about half a length I called it quits and we dried up and went and zoned out on a quiet hammock instead. Much better. Gorgeous.
I would certainly join Birch Selsdon if I lived in Croydon. The place is incredible, with 200 acres of land as well as the gym, the coworking space etc. It’ll cap before long I reckon. Then it’ll be a sought after membership. I’ve had a glorious few days of surprisingly all consuming mask work. I have no idea what I’ve said a lot of the time. I’ve been in a room that feels like an extended psychedelic experience trying to make people smile and usually managing it. Everyone has their humour in a different place. But there’s usually time to find it.
Now I must remember who I am without Panda. Life as a human beckons once again. I will miss my cockroach friend. And Dixie the rat. Qui est l’homme? Qu’est-ce que panda? Pourquoi l’homme est-il panda? Pourquoi panda est-il l’homme? Faut-il le savoir?
At least I still have Captain MushroomFace in my car.
AlBarclay 