The first Scattered exhibition of 2012 is today! The exhibition is so close now (only a matter of hours away) that we can almost smell it...and no, that’s not the smell of unwashed knitwear and pretentious matted hair but the smell of creativity and pure artistic gumption. And the smell is coming from...
The old Chacewater Gun Club on Station Road in, wait for it, Chacewater.
The smell will be pungent and open to sniffers (no, this metaphor just isn’t working is it?) from 3pm to 6pm today ONLY.
Getting parked:
Please park in the public car park in Chacewater as there will be no parking outside the gun club itself and the Scattered team is keen to encourage healthy physical exertion at every available opportunity.
Entering Chacewater from Truro, take a left at the first pub. Entering from Redruth, you will pass a pub on your left. Carry on and take the right just before the second pub. I assume they’ll be some sort of big blue ‘P’ to guide you further.
Getting Scattered:
Back on the main Chacewater road and with your back to Truro, take the right hand turn just past the shop onto Station Road. After a pleasant and exhilarating five minute walk (ah, feel that fresh air in your lungs, clear those nasal passages in preparation...okay, I can’t stop), you’ll see the white, graffitied walls of the gun club on your left.
(NB. There is no postcode for the site so go old school for this – lick a finger and wave it in the air perhaps?)
Enjoying Scattered:
Because of the unusual nature of this exhibition space, no dogs will be permitted on site and we ask that, for their own safety, children stay with an adult at all times and are not allowed to run around and fall down holes etc!
Scattered is looking forward to seeing you.
P.S. I just googled ‘nasal hair’ thinking I might be able to claw back the smell metaphor by adding in some interesting nasal hair facts but I got as far as reading that my nasal hairs prevent foreign particles entering my lungs and started to feel a bit wheezy. I plucked some nasal hairs the other day (painful but aesthetically necessary) and now I’m worried that I’ve left myself at the mercy of foreign objects. Shit.
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