Dismaland

Two years ago today, my daughter and I went to Banksy’s Dismaland. We were so very excited. We had waited for the moment tickets were released and fortunately got two. On the day of the event, we got up early early and booked a parking place in someone’s driveway and made the long drive to the dump of a site. The whole day was in itself an art instillation, some twisted fairy tale- that we were so excited, that the drive was 3 1/2 hours, that we were going to a dump (created intentionally that way)- it wasn’t just about the art.

Once there the experience was oh so Banksy, and looking back, in the light of the world at the moment, and especially recent events, it is so very ironic. We waited in the queue for the park to open

and as we entered we were searched, like others (with extra-effective paper tools). I was held back because I was smiling. I had to stop it. Dismaland, not happy land. Stop the smiling, they told me. Stop it. It took time, but I did, and they let me through.Read More »Dismaland: