Mean Streets

Art Life , Reviews Apr 28, 2004 No Comments

The streets of Paddington in the morning present a very different kind of reality to the one presented by the well-heeled suburb’s reputation. Oxford Street is cold and unfriendly and you wonder why you left your warm bed for bad manners and crazy people. We were assaulted by some surprisingly off milk at home and so we decided to venture out to for coffee and toast, a small breakfast to get our art adventure off to a civilized start.

Well, we got the coffee and toast OK and we were watching the pretty girls from the surrounding boutiques arrive at the shop for their early morning pick-me-ups, and we saw five children under four years old walking along the street wearing matching green pixie hats – but then we saw a woman wearing a red cardigan, very short black shorts and long red socks and shiny black shoes staggering around outside the Commonwealth Bank. Her legs were mottled and bruised and, although she seemed to be having quite a good time, she seemed somewhat underdressed for the chilly autumn morning. She kept looking back to gaze at someone who was following her and although no one was there, she seemed quite concerned.

Andrew Frost

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