A Giclee Print Featuring a Single Zebra Head
A Limited Edition of 395 Copies
Made in Our Own Studios and Available in Three Sizes
Reproduced on Textured Fine Art Paper
The Over-Worked Time-Traveller
A few days ago, my pesky Resident Artist (and wife) popped out for a couple of hours, so I immediately stopped working - only for a moment you understand, just to draw breath. As I sat there gazing from my workshop window, I began to ponder three of life's really big questions: Why do some fundamental particles have mass even though the symmetries controlling their interactions require them to be massless? Do protons change shape at the speed of light? And - will it be sausages for tea?
It was just then when something very odd began to happen. As I looked from my window, the view began to change: the sky quickly darkened, the treetops bent before a sudden squall, and snowflakes began to zip and swirl through the air like millions of furious white bees. Then, as my eyelids grew heavy, I felt myself begin to sink slowly into a vast... black... void...
Now, I understand lesser mortals might refer to what I'm describing as a 'nodding off' event. But of course, I knew it was nothing of the sort as, luckily, I was already very familiar with the initial induction phase of... Time Travel! Yes, as you've probably guessed, I had undergone a Momentary Time Shift! (Note to Self: the phenomenon of MTS has manifested previously, but usually much later in the day - and only whilst lying on a large, comfy sofa placed strategically in front of a television).You see, initially when I sat down at my workshop desk I was gazing out on a beautiful spring day. Then, in the very next instant, I realised I'd crossed the space-time continuum and had travelled back in time to a scene remeniscent of the depths of winter; something akin to a full-blown, sub-zero, Arctic white-out (or, if you live near Fraserburgh, an average Monday afternoon).
Shortly after this event everything once again faded to black as, presumably, I time-shifted once more and was delivered back to my workshop desk. It was at exactly this point, as I peeled my moist cheek from the surface of the desk, when the first strains of a hideous noise reached my ears. I jarred upright, adjusted my eyes to the sunlight which now streamed through the window then, feeling very weary from all this time travel, I had a good old stretch and a well deserved yawn. However the hideous din persevered. With every passing second it grew louder, more intense and even more shrill. As it grew nearer, so did my anxiety - and the dread of impending doom. In desperation to block the sound I clasped my hands to my ears, rocking too and fro. Then, as I turned, preparing to flee the building, I discovered the source of the racket. The Resident Artist had returned and, even before closing the door behind her, was telling me how I just HAD to hear what a jolly time she and EVERY OTHER - SINGLE PERSON had at the Insch Ladies Lunch!
My afternoon, dear reader... was ruined!
P. S. And it wasn't even sausages for tea :( Oh, and, as you can see, she's also created this zebra print).
SKU: 1143