On a bleak industrial state outside Fremantle, Simon Gilby is smiling broadly, waving me up towards the spacious unit that temporarily serves as his artistic studio. His advice was to wrap up warm, which I’ve done, though I notice that Gilby himself is wearing a motorcycle jacket so spectacularly derelict a gust of wind may do for it. I wonder if it’s the one he was wearing in the accident that almost did for him twelve years ago, when he was thrown from his BMW R100 trying to avoid two kids who’d run onto the road. I make a mental note to ask him, though it will have to wait until we’ve finished talking about whatever it is we’re talking about – rather suddenly, and in great depth and detail … [More here]