You enter his flat (ninth floor - lift still not working), walk through to the living room and open the balcony doors. First off, it doesn't look like an infinity pool, not straight away. You don't look at it and think "My God, what a beautiful infinity pool!" You look at it and think, "Stagnant water. Raw concrete edges. You're not supposed to see the edges." It doesn't matter. Jerry says this is a different kind of infinity.

Jerry calls the man sitting on a toilet in the middle of the pool a "man/toilet/island complex". There's also a smell of silage, which can be off putting (well some people say it is but I quite like it). The man is usually a close male relative. Best of all is a brother.  Basically, the brother's the channel, the chosen one, the medium of infinity.

Laughter, the tinkle of champagne glasses, that's how it begins. Then whoosh... cow heads on silver platters surfacing right into the pool. They - the heads - float around for a bit then carefully coordinate themselves, circling the man/toilet/island complex in ultra-tight configurations. Gradually everything recedes. Your mind begins to think long thoughts.

At times the brother will start to look a little frazzled. Actually, very frazzled. I've visited the pool a number of times and it's always the same brother in the same clothing - tight black T-shirt, black jeans, no shoes or socks - in that same head up, hunched over posture Jerry describes as "masturbatory". Occasionally, if you're lucky, the brother turns to look at you directly. You feel like a window's opening in your soul.  Jerry explains how it's only to be expected: "he's hitting a threshold and trying to maintain himself there and not get sucked in - it's sympathetic. You sense the resonations."

Jerry mentioned a few other technicalities/ considerations during the course of my visits. So, if you're thinking of constructing one, please take the following into account: