I actually strolled right round the Wilmington fellow, Brendan, about 25 years ago. It was a hot August day. I'd been to the 1066 battlefield that morning, and I was feeling positively medieval or earlier. Grand it was. I suppose that made it art in my mind at least. Does that count?

Dunno what "art" is, really. I like to think that it's something that needs, in its particular field, a lot more talent than I've got and a lot more imagination than I've got. Plus something a bit intangible on top. Something that rouses something in my head that has been dormant and inaccessible until now. Insight, inspiration, something like that. An enhancing thing. But, on a subjective level, I want it to be life-affirming. "I am the Walrus" doesn't make the cut for me. The willow man does.