This is an apology song. First I have to apologise for not writing too much. Second, for the belated response to the Spring Art Tour… and lastly for reusing the Wayne Barker image (there is only one image on the internet).

But I have been working really hard because I thought I had a trustfund but was mislead. So my five dayjobs and new gallery will have to do… for now.

It all started when M Blackman and I decided to open a gallery, which is a stupid idea. But it wasn’t our fault. It was Jonathan Garnham’s. And Jonathan Garnham’s wife is hot.

Blackman had some money that was meant to go to the arts. He asked for advice and when he finally decided to put it toward an East city project room for Blank Projects, I agreed. Garnham wanted the space next to The Book Lounge which was up for leasing. Blackman offerered start up cash and a few months rental. Garnham realised he did not want to put time into another space with no turnover. I got roped in as a consultant and Blackman and I ended up opening our own space called YOUNGBLACKMAN. And Andrew Lamprecht claims that we stole his idea.

But we needed a show and learnt that Sue Williamson’s long anticipated book – South African Art Now – was being launched in two weeks. I called Sue and she was happy to help us out with our opening act - Better Lives - which is currently on display. We built a few walls and bought a couple of projectors and opened with a bit of a bang.

But a few days prior to the launch artist Wayne Barker sent a text to Sue which I imagine read something like: “You old hag! Why am I not in the book! I am such a great artist! Respect my authority or fear my binge drinking wrath!”

On that same night, Barker stumbled into the Kimberley and rudely interrupted a pre-show meeting with Blackman:

Barker: Why are you showing that old bitch for your opening!

Young: Because she wrote a book and we like the work.

Barker: Well you don’t know what you are doing!

Young/Blackman: I think we sort of do.

Barker: Why am I not in the book!

Young: Ask Sue.

Barker: I should be in the book!

Young: No you shouldn’t.

Barker: Why are YOU in the book!

Young: Because my work is relevant.

Barker: You should have opened your space with me!

Young: No. We are happy with Sue.

Barker: My work is better!

Young: No. It’s not. It’s absolute shite.

Barker: Do you know how much money I make?

Young: I don’t care.

Barker: Do you know who I am?

Young: Yes. Do You?

Barker: Do You…

Young: Fuck off.

Blackman: Um, who is he?

The kind of desperation that lingers from a failed career could be troublesome for most. The next night the same happened:

Barker: Do you…

Young: Fuck off.

Blackman: Um, who is he? He has a nice hat.

But a few days later the Spring Art Tour opened and we were all very happy. The Cape Town leg was fun… until we got thrown out of Michael Stevenson as we arrived.

Stevenson: Party is over boys.

Young: It’s fine. We’re off to Blank Projects across the road.

Stevenson: Yeah. That’s more your kind of beer drinking gallery.

Young: Bye.

Blackman: Um, who is he? He has nice little flags outside in the quad.

And Blank was great. Probably the only kick-ass show of the night. We spent a few days to recover and stupidly headed out to Stellenbosch after attending a talk on art publishing at Clarke’s Bookshop. The combined effort of the speaker and constant glares from former ‘Ronald’ ‘Suresh’ ‘Roberts’ didn’t sit comfy with a white wine hangover. Afterwards I went to sit at Lolar’s with Matthew Partridge. Blackman arrived and Partridge informed us that colour was under house arrest. We went to Stellenbosch.

Colour had in fact gone to Stellenbosch to retire and avoid the crime. Partridge was blind to it because he was asleep on the back seat. We searched for SMAC Gallery, we were inconvenienced by a Saturday ‘Sunday Market’. We entered SMAC. Baylon Sandri demanded to know why ‘I left the most powerful artists in South Africa’ out of Sue Williamson’s book. We go to Die Wijn Huis. Barker enters said Wijn Huis.

Barker: Don’t ever say fuck off to me again!

Young: Fuck Off.

Blackman slips away to speak to Partridge about the monochromatic localised imaginary. Thembinkosi Goniwe regains my attention.

Barker: Cunt.

Barker raises his hat in agitation.

Barker: I'll drop you.

Young: If you ever say that to me again I’ll drop you.

Barker: I’ll take you.

Young: Do you want to take this outside?

Barker: I’ll fuck you up.

Young: I’ll meet you outside in five. Eduardo Villa Sculpture.

Wayne leaves said Wijnhuis and Partridge departs the imaginary to enter the real.

Blackman: Um, who was he?

Young: That was Wayne Barker you fucking idiot.

Blackman: He has a nice hat.

Lamprecht arrives in tears and orders us to the Karl Andre Exhibition with antique shop motif. Baylon Sandri demands to why I ‘left the most powerful artists in South Africa’ out of Sue Williamson’s book.

Young: Which ones would those be?

Sundry: Why are my artists not in the book?

Young: Maybe you should reconsider your stable.

Sundry: Lets not talk about the book.

Sundry (to Blackman): I haven’t seen the book but it is unbelievable to me that Ed left out some of the most powerful artists in South Africa.

We leave.

Blackman: Um, who is he?

Young: Fuck off.

Blackman: Does he have nice stables?

A week, six days, 3 hours and forty-three minutes later Barend De Wet calls during my revision lecture on contemporary revision. I call him back.

Young: Hello

Barend De Wet: Hello

Young: Hello

De Wet: Why wasn’t I in Sue Williamson’s book?

White wine hang over, I hang up.