Dear Nessi

When Power Pack was working at the gallery last week, Henry complimented me, saying "If Petra says she'll do something, she does it. And does it properly."

The downside is how annoyed I get when other people don't.

I arrived at Riley's at 9:30 am Sunday morning to find the previous artist's work still up. Some were photos of a holiday in Cambodia (I kid you not), still velcroed to the wall. Others had bolts through Perspex which made it impossible to pack them away without damaging them. I had talked to the bar owner about when I was hanging my show. I can only hope whoever's due to hang next will know what day they're due to hang, and that *I* will also know when my work is to come down.

By 12.30 my paintings and prints decorated the chipped yellow and green walls, name cards strategically placed over holes in plaster. I made a jug of Bloody Mary's and waited for people to arrive.

.....

Cut to jug number 4 or 5 ("it seems to refill itself," said Mr Flea)... no, later than that, onto Hoegarden, ultra expensive wheat beer which I was drinking cos I sold 2 paintings (to Frankie and Newcastle painter). My friends had all been in the back room, taking up tables and sofas all afternoon, sipping Bloody Mary's and nibbling on Thai food. I noticed someone in the middle room had one of my framed etchings in her hand.

"Did that fall off the wall?" I asked grabbing it from her, and squeezing round the table to hang it back up.

"No, I was just looking at it," she said. "Are you Petra? This work is much better that crap that was up here before. A bit overpriced though." (which it was not)

"Is that a Magpie?" said one of her male friends.

"no, it's a Hawaiian Goose," I said.

"f*cking foreigners! I don't want any f*cking foreigners in my country!"

I didn't think Riley's attracted that sort of customer, the ones who read and believe the scare mongering racism in the tabloid press. But maybe it was cos there was a football match on tv. I didn't know what to say.

"That one's an English goose...." pointing to another picture.

"are they going to have sex? Is it going to give the other goose head? I wanna see some porn!"

I walked away, nervous of the people who were drinking under my artwork.

........

So we ended up in another bar in Stokie, on some back street, with Mr Flea and his young woman.

"Your girlfriend is really beautiful," Yuri had said earlier.

"You sound surprised," said Mr Flea, grey haired, dribbling like a regular at the Chichester pub (aka "Heaven's waiting room"). Nah, I'm being unfair. I like Mr Flea. He's just an alcoholic, that's all. And he was getting nasty to me for drinking Hoegarden - "that's £5 a pint! let's go the Chichester." he would slur, as I chatted to his woman and Power Pack slumped into a corner. I didn't really want the day to end, but it had to some time.

All in all it was enjoyable. Henry came along and did not annoy anyone. People with kids drifted in and out, Jane, Merl, and the drummer from Devil's Food Horses (Mr Head and the Bootlegger's new band). Tom, Serena, Frankie, Suzy. Tom was shocked that the Scuba Diver is going to sing in the Surf Band - "But he's Mr Doom and Gloom!" er, yeah, Scuba Diver does have a bit of Nick Cave about him, but he's also Barry White. Not everyone with a deep voice is a goth.

And I accidentally revealed very unsexy blue y-fronts when pulling back my skirt to show how much weight I'd lost. Yep, a typical, old style Mononad day - underwear, vodka, and skewed memories.

Petra

Ps other stuff....

I was really trying hard not to comment on this but...well, let's comment on Michael Jackson first. The last 2 nights there were 2 tv interviews where you had to play 'spot when the interviewee is lying'.

With Jackson, I think you, me and Power Pack agree - he's sad, f*cked up, lies about his plastic surgery but is not a paedophile. How we reckon he's telling the truth there I don't know, but he seems so... asexual really. Like he's forever mourning a childhood he never had. Desperate for love, not in the sexual sense. He's neither man nor child but freak. I've never been a fan but I think people should leave him alone.

Now Saddam. Well. Power Pack and I like Mr Benn, and were disappointed. We reckon the interview with Saddam will be ammunition for those who don't like him. He was too nice. Smiled too much. Didn't ask pointed enough questions.

But as one message boarder put it, "Shame about the questions, but I guess that's why he was given the interview."

Tony was on the radio this morning, too, again almost causing damage to the whole anti-war movement but not letting the BBC interviewer get a word in. "Stop shouting at me!" shouted Benn when the interviewer only wanted to ask what everyone wanted to know - why he didn't get more to the point. There's war to stop here - but saying "stop this war we want peace!" is not enough - you've got to give reasons. Yes, he gave some, but his breathless ranting was almost childish. Not good. Yes, it's true the pro-war side gets more publicity, but that’s not reason to refuse to even listen to questions.

Benn said something to the effect that he didn't like the confrontational approach. But even with our piddly little Art Movement, we know that's how the media works. Get used to it. What I'd really like to see is Jeremy Paxman having a go at Saddam, the way he is planning to have a go at Blair on Thursday.

So, see, we here at Mono-nad are not snivelling leftwing pussies after all..

(by the way Power Pack and I are not sure if it was the real Saddam or a double - his moustache was looking grey and isn't the real one too vain to go out without dying it? Especially in his only tv interview with the West.)

(Joke transcript of interview )