It took me approximately a year before I realised I should invest in a pair of ear plugs. For months, I had been stapling away at my picture frames, ignoring my frightened little eardrums as they squealed and jumped.

“Help us Matt – cough cough - we’re dying!” they might as well have been saying. The problem was, their whimpering protests were falling on deaf ears – ha ha – but eventually, I got my act together and remembered to pop into the chemist’s.

“A case of your finest, all-weather ear-plugs my good friend,” I must have said (or some such thing), and trotted away with four of the pinkest, most luminescent, sponge-based products I think I’ve ever had the pleasure of purchasing.

The first time I took them out for a spin I thought I’d wrecked them – and if you ever acquire a pair you’ll know what I mean. I held them up to the light and turned them over studiously. “What curiosities,” I thought. I gave them a little squeeze and… whoops!

They were now completely deformed. And strangely, they refused to spring back into shape as I expected. There they lay, on my table, like a ghoulish collection of extraterrestrial road-kill. I disappeared off to make a nice cup of tea, feeling annoyed at the prospect of going back to the chemist’s.

Some minutes later, when I walked back into the room, I was confronted with a scene from the Village of the Damned – only made from sponge. Those presumed-dead-ear-plugs were now reanimated and standing firmly to attention.

“What the… ?”

I didn’t quite drop my mug of tea – they’re just ear plugs after all – but I was most intrigued. From what unearthly material had they been made?

On closer inspection I realised that it was as if time itself somehow flowed more slowly inside those devilish things. They did indeed spring back to their proper shape after being squeezed, only it took minutes instead of seconds.

“I know,” I thought, “I’ll stick one in me ear!”

I read the packet. Squeeze them till they’re short and fat. Press into ear. Hold firmly for one minute. Listen to the quietness. Mmm.

I can’t tell you how strange it felt that first time, as the sponge slowly extended itself down my ear canal, moulding itself to the shape of my innards. And the sound – it was like I had fallen into a giant vat of Rice Crispies.

That morning I didn’t get much framing done – I just sat there squeezing those little fellas into all forms of shape and shoving them into my ears. Now the novelty’s worn off I couldn’t care less of course. That’s not strictly true. But as ear plugs they certainly know how to block sound. And they are an essential piece of kit for any would-be self-framing artist. Highly recommended!