Real and Imagined Lives – Banksy

I mentioned before that a piece of my writing is on display alongside a photo on Banksy at MShed in Bristol. A couple of people weren’t able to make the exhibition, so asked if I could put the writing online somewhere for them to read. Well, my mum asked. So here you go ma! My friend Pam and I went to the exhibition for the launch party – pictures are below.


Of course you know me. We’ve met before. But you don’t remember.

You try desperately to remember. But my face is a greasy penny, slipping between your fingers into the cracks of the pavement, escaping into Bristol beyond.

We met on Park Street. I had my high visibility vest and my stepladder. We passed in the street. You turned as I passed, but the harder you looked for me, the less you could see.

You followed the paint drips down the street and thought that you caught me, red handed – paint brush in hand, stencilling the wall. You shouted, angry. Vandal! Trickster! You rushed me. Knocked the ladder. I fell, and shattered into a thousand pieces.

You panicked. Swept me up, and threw me away. But as you looked into the bin, you saw every tiny shard start sprouting arms, and legs, paint brushes, and stepladders. A tiny army of teachers, nurses, ambulance drivers. Wearing monkey masks. Dreaming of revolution.

I was seeds on fertile earth. From a two-armed man to a seven nation octopus, swaying around with dangerous ideas, minds of their own, and spraycans attached to their tentacles.

Of course you know me. We’ve met, remember? You shook my hand.

My name?

I’m just the monkey mask man.


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