To represent the end of our winter fun, the booklet back page depicts a thawed version of the sleeve covers.
So it came to pass that one chilly lunchtime we set out into the great wilderness surrounding South Queensferry in search of two melted snowmen, i.e. puddles. We anticipated that the required materials might not be available on site, so we went prepared with a couple of snowmen's noses, musical instrument oriented artifacts, a digital camera, and smiles on our faces.
Those smiles vanished fairly quickly as we found that two perfect puddles weren't as easy to source as we had imagined. We wandered sufficiently far that we began to regret not also having brought a GPS positioning device, or at least a map and compass. We contemplated availing ourselves of some fake plastic puddles, or perhaps creating our own puddles, but that seemed like the sort of thing Milli Vanilli might do. It's cheating, really.
Eventually we found a couple of wet depressions that fitted the bill, on a muddy track half way between an English shooting party and their vehicles. Incidentally, in Scotland an English shooting party usually describes a group of visitors from England who have come to shoot wildlife of various descriptions, and not, as you might expect, a group of Scottish people letting their hair down and loosing a few shots off at some less well armed English people.
For some reason the party's dogs seemed to be more interested in our carrots than in their birds, so arranging the scene wasn't as easy as it might have been, and in addition we suffered the taunts of the shooters, who obviously don't appreciate real art, and suggested we enter for the Turner prize.
Despite these distractions, we eventually bagged our brace, the resultant satisfaction bolstered further by the knowledge that this time we had truely suffered for our art. Heh.