My first thought after my mind cleared of wonder at this question pertaining to my most socially acceptable work to date (I mean, I feel one could take The Devil's Lake to parties, or other such occasions without embarrassment. ) was what would he have done if I'd given him Whithering? Probably leaped immediately out of the window, legal documents flying and flitting ensue.

This picture has been the centre of two interesting questions: "What on Earth does it mean?" and "Why, er, do you keep making square pictures?". To the latter, it's obvious of course, my dealer happened to pick up forty-six thousand square mailing cartons very cheap. And having already explained a few of my works in earlier pages, and felt funny doing it, I'd like to skip the why's and where's of The Devil's Lake, but say anyway (in case you think I don't know what it means either ... ) that it deals with entrapment of a specific nature, and the title is the answer.

Speaking, by the by, of 'socially acceptable' pictures, upon the publication of aforementioned Pandora we hung a print of it on the hall-wall outside the mighty GbP Palace of Art (our apartment) only to find it torn down some weeks later by the building superintendent ( . . . one night . . . furtively . . . in our absence . . ) belligerently giving his reasons that the neighbours had complained.

    It's one of those posh buildings on Park Avenue, N.Y. It came to light that indeed the neighbours had complained but not determined why. Much grievous argument took place and ultimately the picture was re-hung. Either the import of the issue or the resonance of my bellow resulted in nigh on the entire building knowing and having some opinion of the episode.

I was cornered one late night by the midnight elevator operator, a besotted buffoon whom we referred to as "Old Red Eye", who gave me his recordable opinion of why the neighbours (whoever they were) had insisted on the removal of Pandora, "It weren't original" he said, glaring at me with an earnest, though vermilion, eye. "I don't know where you'se (referring to me alone) got de idea from .... some med-eye-vlism ... or sumpn." He paused. "I mean ", with a sweep of his hand, "a guy's got his opinion, right?!" "Of course", I replied not really quick enough to be witty. "Ahs seen it somewhere befoh . . . can't remember. . ." He continued his claims even though I'd left and he was descending back down the elevator well. This led me to believe, quite happily, that my work was being recognized by the general public.

I was proved right, by George, because when Pandora was replaced some months later by The Devil's Lake, it was stolen!