Gilbert and George, my thoughts before my visit to the Tate Modern

I wrote these notes while waiting for a friend before going into the exhibition.

Gilbert and George at Tate Modern

I've no idea about transcribing this, but I thought it might be interesting to write about how I feel before I go into the exhibition. I'm waiting for Clare, one of my fellow Middlesex students, who is very easy to be honest around because she has her own very special gently sociopathic disregard for convention. I had been going to see it with Lara, a very intense Italian, but she is ill, but I think I would have had difficulty contradicting her.

I am expecting not to like the work or rather to be unimpressed. how can they live up to the hype. I'm almost dreading going in. What if I do like it? If I don't, is it because I'm closed minded to the idea?

As it stands, I've seen their work at the White Cube and other galleries. I feel they have just produced the same piece over and over again, presenting not really the subject of their work or the issue but just taking another opportunity for self promotion, without innovation, stuck in a rut.

A very good friend (Isobel, for those who know her) pointed out something I've been very quiet about. They have a very similar aesthetic to me, putting themselves into their pictures, in their tweed suits or naked, both of which have echoes in my work . Maybe my dread is being compared to them. Their success with work that is so different to mine is intimidating, what if I don't measure up because I'm too literal or ordinary, or just not good enough.

- And that was when I ran out of paper and Clare arrived