A joke on the artists’ forum inspires Boris Novak to set a challenge. From 26 countries, 63 artists speaking 15 languages made 119 artworks to create Yoghurtaria.

Like stolen exhibits in a gallery, I’ve plundered the words of the artists to tell the story. A textural piece showing the thick creamy delight. Some of us are creating culture...

I live in an extremely rural secluded area of upstate NY, pretty much cut off from the rest of the world. They say here if you want culture you have to buy yogurt.

For starters, what is this new place? Like one of Alice’s dreamscapes. the white rabbit, a chess board, a Palladian bridge and antique gilt-framed royals of the parallel universe liv- ing under the threat of electro execution. Frozen yoghurt on fresh snow: here is the ski slope in the centre of the town, so close to the theatre, that you could get to it on the skis if you don ́t know how to stop them.

The wild skies and seas, where the wind comes from and where the wind goes. Staring at the stars in mono and full colour. There's not much marsh left now – most of it's been built on, and they moved the gypsies out ages ago (long before I was born).

Cows. She’s a cutey. We named her Mooey. A favourite of mine stands out from the crowd. She’s red and is fantastically named Saturn Lucky. Krishna was brought up as a cowherd. No wonder he loved curd and would climb to steal it from the earthenware pots hung up high by the Gopis.

I have a painting I made of the footprints of three-legged Nosferatu. He was a furry dude! Whilst Boris’ cat sleeps on Caravaggio’s lap. In this society cats get the yoghurt and cream. Very clever of me leaving the yoghurt on the table. Yoghurt horses? That'd be quite something. There’s a wee yoghurty mouse too.

I prefer the real thing, personally.

Not allowed to crave right now. On target to get down to 165 pounds, currently 185 LOL, what are they smoking, they think I will not eat yoghurt. I grew up in the 1970s when it was synonymous with being on a diet.