When it came to presenting the findings in the academy for the exhibition, I had a clear idea in my mind as to what I wanted to present. Transferring the documentation to the gallery space was not a straightforward process, however, there were several issues which I first needed to resolve… My grand ideas of using the toilets as a place for ‘art outside the gallery walls’ or employing a fortune teller for the private view, had to be reined in and will be reserved for next year when we are the more prominent cohort.

Similarly, I had a dilemma regarding just how much I wanted to ‘say’. By developing the narratives the way I have, I came to enjoy using my imagination in a playful way and encouraging others to interpret things the way they wanted to. Always careful to leave subtle clues and allow others’ imaginations to ‘fill in the gaps’, when presenting such a body of work to the public – many of whom would not be familiar with the style of my blog – I became conscious that there was a danger of giving too much away.

And finally, I was not confident enough about the short documentary I have made, to have it projected in the gallery, and preferred more intimate presentation via a laptop (with the accompanying soundtrack on the actual dictation machine I used during the readings) although clearly this is an area to explore for future practice. I have embraced new technologies in terms of my website, which has been an online exhibition of sorts with elements of collaboration, in terms of the comments submitted.

I do, though, feel I have reached a balance in the physical installation I have ultimately produced.

Because I was creating a semi-fictional world, I wanted to present objects as if they were artefacts one might find in a museum, so borrowed some display cases and offered a fabricated cataloguing system for the objects related to each narrative. I have read that what I have created, could be described as alter-modern (being as I am, an artist working with super-modern themes with text and image across time and space) but throughout my journey, the concept behind what I have been doing has been key.

The art I have presented is not quite objectless, but is based on a mixture of fact, fiction and memory, scribbled notes or fantastic ideas. I was also keen to encourage at least some participation by viewers, even if I wasn’t letting them ‘in’ completely, and my submission fits the description given to conceptual art following the 1960s, by Daniel Marzona:

“At a stroke, art was understood as a special form of information, which was often presented as a combination of photography and text.. the beholder was now finally being urged to take part in the art actively, and often at considerable expenditure of effort…”[1]

The main body of the piece is quite minimalist, with traditional display methods underneath randomly-hung frames. My desk, notice board and reference books are there in the gallery too, to recreate my working space and hints at the processes I have followed, allowing viewers some access at least to the methods I employ, whilst the recreation of a fortune teller’s booth table, complete with free fortune cookies and fortune teller fish, is another playful gesture of involving members of the public in my story.

Ultimately, this work presents my version and others’ interpretations of events from the past and in the future, so it should be recognised as a collaborative piece, even though many of my colleagues were unaware of their input. The installation’s title is ‘Halfway to Paradise’ because Billy Fury was a regular visitor to Blackpool fortune tellers related to some of those whom I myself frequented, but also because I find myself in a state of transition in many areas of my life, not least in transcending from a gloomy past (Unlucky for Some) towards a brighter future (which, as many a palm reading told me, is In Your Hands). A rejected alternative was the song lyric “The past was yours, but the future’s mine”[2].

Where I go from here is an interesting question. One small project I have already begun to undertake is mapping the findings of the seven readings and then log their resonance or otherwise what happens in my everyday life. This has already started (indeed, some of what I was told has come true this past week) and will be documented in a diary that will last exactly one year. In this I will also keep a record of every horoscope that I read during that time.

Another step I have tentatively taken is to document the responses of other people to what they are told by fortune tellers. The first experiment of this type gave rather unsurprising results, as during a return to Morecambe, my girlfriend was told almost exactly the same during a reading as I had been by the same fortune teller a month previous. I must then decide how to interpret this – either the fortune teller says the same thing all the time and makes up more than I do; she saw me coming and wanted to join in the game by giving false information; or, our fates are similar and we are simply meant to be together.

I will also be writing a second series of short stories, based on people’s interventions in my future, following what I have been told will happen to me. These will be more difficult to create, but perhaps allow more theoretical foundations, especially if I continue my wider reading around the subject, on issues such as synchronicity, self-fulfilling prophecies, time travel and spirituality. 

She looked the part, dark glasses, long black hair. I recorded this reading too, as it was going to be my last.

“I’m no make believe gypsy,” she told me, “I’m a true born Romany. What I say is guaranteed to come true in the next year.”

She told me she could also do more expensive readings to forecast the next three months, and that I should think about this, as there was something she really wanted me to know.

“Where you go once, you can go again. You have very good character, and bear a good name. Exactly a month today, you will get a big surprise – it will make you very happy. But be careful who you trust, and who you tell things. Be wary.

“You are not going to die of sickness. It will be of old age. You will never be a burden. You were born under a lucky star. You’re a survivor, you’re like a cat, you’ve got nine lives. But you worry, I can see. Try not to take life too seriously.”

“What is your biggest worry?” she asked. Travel, I replied. “Your career… you’ll make a change, soon. You won’t spend your days doing it, you’ll work for yourself. Have you considered living abroad?”

“You’ve got a good partner. I see big changes and surprises in the next six months… and within the next three months, you’ll come into good money unexpectedly. Not millions, but a nice amount. Don’t lend it: you need to be careful who you trust.”

She kept saying, don’t share too much with others, keep things to yourself.

Then it came.

“Now there is something I want to tell you, something you should know, I do wish you could afford the extra cost… go on, it’s not every day you get your palm read!”

I parted with an extra seven pounds. She handed me the crystal ball. “Go on, make a wish…”

She then told me my wish would come true, and that I was born to be the father of three, two boys and one girl.

After re-iterating what she had told me during the hands-and-face reading, she simply said, “If only you knew how happy your future is going to be… you wouldn’t worry.”

On the way out, I asked her name again.

“It’s outside. You won’t forget it in a hurry.”

I had to wait to go in: she was on the ‘phone, reading from a magazine.

She was definitely the most glamorous of the tellers I’d visited.

No wish this time, it cost £10, not the advertised three, though she did read both hands.

“Wherever you go once, you can go back to. You are popular, and well-liked. You’ll live into your eighties, you won’t be a burden.”

She pointed out my life lines, then asked my age.

She asked if I was in management, because she believed I was about to make a career change – I should go it alone, and will have made my name by the age of 40.

“5 and 8 are your lucky numbers… blue and white your lucky colours… and Saturday your lucky day, so anything you do, do it on a Saturday and it’ll be lucky.”

“The dates December 17th or 18th are big days for you, you’ll get a nice surprise.”

She asked if I had any unanswered questions. I mentioned the sugar.

“No, I don’t see any sugar in your palm at all. What will kill you is something like a heart attack, something sudden and painless. You won’t suffer.”

Before leaving, I bought a lucky birthstone charm bear from her for three pounds.