“Hey! I’ve Just caught you looking, haven’t I?” said the small man in the black leather jacket and grey turtleneck.

“That’s ok. Come and take a closer look.” He continued, ushering me closer.

“Do you like what I’ve done to my wife?”

I stood there speechless!

“I finally got to do it!” the man said, oblivious to my ever more widening eyes.

“It took me ages to execute her to my satisfaction! Took several attempts, before I was happy with the final result.” he said smiling broadly.

”Well it would, wouldn’t it, when it means so much to you” he continued.

“It’s such a personal statement! I really had a love-hate relationship with it, took me several attempts to execute her properly”.

I was dumbstruck. could thing of nothing I could say.

“I started very roughly to begin with” he gestured, flailing his arms about like a demented banshee. “as if I was in a murderous frenzy…” he laughed.

“…but I slowed down when it came to the details. Took immense pleasure in the artistry; the marking of the skin; the carving out of the eyes!” His voice lowering almost to a whisper.

“I must confess…” he leaned in to me so closely, I could feel the his breath across my face.

“…I damaged several tools in the process. Completely ruined two chisels!” he continued sounding quite incandescent.

I stood there motionless, feeling paralysed, unable to move a muscle. My mind whirling at the thought of what he had done to the thing that was in front of me.

“Do you like the way she is posed?” he asked, bringing me back to the present.

“I wasn’t sure whether she looks right” he continued, not waiting for an answer.

“I didn’t want her just floating around in mid-air, so to speak. She needed posing properly! After all, I didn’t want her just hanging there like a piece of meat in a butcher’s window, I’m not Francis Bacon am I!” he guffawed.

“You see, I originally did it for my own personal pleasure…” His monologue continued oblivious now to my presence.

“…but once I’d finished the job, I was so pleased with the result that I thought it needed to be on display, for others to see. I wanted it to be thought provoking, or challenging. Not quite Norman Bates’ Mother…” he laughed, “…but a talking point nonetheless”. I just continued standing there, not knowing what I could say.

“Obviously, my wife wasn’t’ best pleased when I came up with the idea…” He continued his monologue.

“…but by the time I was finished, I don’t think she objected. Well, she couldn’t say much anyway!” he chortled.

“But you should have heard the Mother-in-law, when she saw what I had done!” he laughed again.

“She squealed like a convulsing Pig. Really!” His face began to contort with laughter as he continued describing the old woman’s reactions.

“It sounded like a ringtone from an old 80s mobile phone!” he chortled.

He lent in closer still to me, whispering…

“To be honest, I think she’s a bit upset about it. She doesn’t think this sort of thing is respectable”.

“Oh where are my manners!” he suddenly cried out.

“I haven’t offered you anything further to eat. Do you fancy dessert? They’re just bringing some out now.” He looked over my shoulder at the melee of activity suddenly occurring a few yards away from us.

I shook my head declining his offer.

“No?… then let me get you some more bubbly?” he said, looking around for the tray of drinks.

“Well, I suppose I should go and mingle a bit”. he continued, as he started walking away.

“After all that’s what an exhibition opening is all about”.