'But then you read the picture titles, and the image in front of you takes on a whole new dimension. ‘Fruit of a summer hedge romance’, is the title of the pants, butt and magazine drawing. ’86 miles per gallon + girlfriend (kudos)’ is the scooter. Then the helmet: ‘On robbing the local post office wearing your own crash helmet’. … See? The effect is a feeling that the drawings are somehow more than the sums of their parts. There’s an itch about it too, like you’re on to something but you can’t put your finger on it. I think this is what Harry means when he talks about ‘the collective otherness felt when looking at high altitude jet planes’ in the exhibition literature. ‘The grass is always greener,’ he says – maybe referring to that restless whisper in your ear sometimes, insisting that life is happening elsewhere.'
(From my review of Harry Malt’s ‘Until that day I love you anyway: Tales from the bus stop’, in Amelia’s Magazine. Also in Amelia’s: Suzie Winsor’s ‘Beard and Wonderful' - why scruffy does it, and Sideshow Stories - how there is beauty in the grotesque.)