“And so it’s true, lo and behold I was the only one with a camera, the day Jesus was laid in his tomb.” Lottie holds the photo hardware up for the gallery crowd to scrutinise. A retro model, but containing more computerised technology packed into it, than available to the entire global effort for outer space travel, c.1954 – 1986. “So that’s my story and now I am ready to take some questions. You there, with the clown make-up, what would you like to ask?”
The beige-coloured painted walls of the gallery space, specially commissioned for the one-person, one-piece exhibition, has created a relaxed atmosphere. The critics from the press have been polite throughout Lottie’s monologue account, despite the only beverage available being tap water.
A portable electric fan heater provides warmth, while outside the weather is wet and gloomy. Better to be here, entertained and drawn into the young woman’s tale of time travel, than to be out there with the homeless, ill, hungry and dying.
“Thank you! Candy-Choc – Clown World. I have only one question.”
“Fire-away Candy, and welcome.”
“Thank you.” Candy suddenly feels a rush of emotional sweetness towards Lottie, revealed by an impulsive need to clear her throat. “I would like to know… by travelling back approximately 1,989 years, getting yourself entry into the tomb, alongside the two Marys, John, Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea… how is it that the image of our Lord shows as coloured in a kind of greyish brown?”
Lottie’s green eyes sparkle, scanning the audience to read their lips and listen carefully with her ears to the murmur and babble that has begun to rumble in response to the question, posed by Candy.
“Well… thank you Candy for your question. It is a simple set of answers needed to explain. One, the Son of God was a Jewish Galilean, not a white, European Caucasian. Two, in my photo, He is dead, at this moment, still several days before His Resurrection.”
“I see that.” Candy concedes.
“Also,” the time travelling photographer continues, “it was pretty gloomy in the vault. I decided against the use of a flash, so as not to draw unwanted attention and difficult enquiries.”
“Sounds fair enough.” This quip, from an anonymous source embedded within the crowd.
“The background light is quite bright, mind.” With this statement, Candy experiences a sudden sense of doubt in her mind.
Lottie nods her head in agreement. Their eyes meet level and she realises that feelings of affection and attraction are combining for the journalist clown. “It’s the Shroud they would wrap Him in. I can’t explain it, it simply drew in light, like there was some sort of powerful, chemistry taking place.”
“Wow!” Overwhelmed with a sense of awe, Candy removes her red nose and twists it back on again.
Brinkinfield 