Having driven down the very long drive to a field next to the manor, Dali saw a huge marquee, this must be the place he thought. Inside were the good folk of Bromyard and its surrounding, raising funds for the local church as well as other good causes.  By 9.00pm there were about 150 people waiting for the ‘entertainer’.

There were not expecting Salvador Dali.  He strode in and announced himself in Spanish, jaws dropped at the sight of the world’s most eccentric artist. Soon his life was unfolding before them like a Pandora’s box  of genius, madness and very weird art. People began to rush to the front to become characters well known to Dali, these people were very bizarre. Some staggered around on one leg, others, while reciting indecipherable surrealist ideas, ran around flapping their arms. The audience laughed so much they could barely control themselves.

As Dali brought the evening to a close the audience rose to their feet and cheered. For a moment Dali was taken aback, but eccentric genius’s are rarely overwhelmed. He simply turned and strolled out into the night amidst a blaze of lobsters.

In came Gary, he took off his dressing gown mounted the dais and took up position. For a moment there was a hush, then I demonstrated how easy it was to draw Gary using circles, rectangles and cylinders to create a frame work for the figure. The girls got stuck in, pencils skating over the canvas and with a few deft strokes they  had Gary captured.  With another fun demonstration on how to mix flesh colours and apply the paint, the girls were off.  Paint brushes were wielded like artists, subtle interpretations of the male form were intermixed with lavish bold versions with the odd exaggeration thrown in for good measure.

A great time was had by all and what a fantastic way to begin a hen party weekend!

He wants me to do a party for a group of people in Wales. Not quite New York, but what the hell. He asked me whether I could give them a great time? Does this guy realise I am the party animal? Gee. it will be so cool.

Andy Warhol

As you know I am a passionate, volatile person. I love my art and I love my women, they are my inspiration. As the evening progressed the women of Hereford played their parts well and we had lots of  fun. The men, well  played their part too.

But I digress. They begged me to draw, so I did. I showed them how to draw a face as though it was looking in different directions. They did well, not quite as good as the greatest painter in the world of course, but they’d had a few drinks. Nevertheless, I thought the best one deserved a prize.

It was a great evening.  I liked the English señoras.

Pablo Picasso

I will never understand you English. Why do you call your las mujeres jóvenes, hens – they are such stupid creatures.  A woman should be idolised. Like the goddess Venus.

He then tells me these hens also want me, Salvador Dali, to conduct a life class. To teach them how to draw a figure. He expects me, the greatest painter of all time, to do this.

The last time I was in a life class I was a student at the Royal Academy in Madrid.  The other students were struggling, the professor went to each one and corrected their drawings to look like a woman. He came to me and gasped in astonishment, amazed at my genius, overwhelmed by vituosity.

For a few seconds he was speechless, then he said, ‘Salvador, why have you drawn a fish!’
‘Is it not obvious,’ I replied, ‘It is simple, she looks like a fish!’

Salvador Dali