So I finally went to see Cildo Meireles at Tate today. It was the last day, and I had an inkling that it would do something for me, so had to see it before it shut. Leaving it until the last day seems to be the way of my world right now, but it was worth it for time sat listening to a tower of static and half tuned noise. Momentary restfulness was achieved, which seems harder and harder to find.

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