Today I was in London at the Wallace Collection, where I was able to see Martin’s favourite painting and many other fine pieces of art. I’m not sure that the current exhibition quite qualifies as that- I thought it does work as a coherent exhibition and I’m glad to have seen it, but frankly some of the actual art was pretty poor. If you go to the link and the sideshow, I liked nos. 2,3,4 and 5 best and thought that the single skull and the glass jug with roses were reasonably well executed – the butterflies seemed to be but he’d just stencilled them on – a typical short-cut which one has to simply accept as what he does – after all, most of his conceptual art wasn’t actually executed by him at all.
Anyway, the place will always be dear to me because it was where I first met Martin and Wendy. I say “first”, although there hasn’t yet been a second meeting – but of course there will be. Friends don’t have to meet regularly, although it’s lovely when they do. I was on an organised visit today (had to leave home at 6.15 – it was still dark, darlings! – to catch the coach from Norwich) so couldn’t offer to meet anyone.
It was mostly dry in London, but raining when I left home today and still raining when I got back. Good job we did this week’s building already. I phoned the Sage to tell him what time to expect me home and when I arrived he’d cooked dinner, opened a bottle of good Beaujolais and, having swept the chimney during the day (no spilt soot, the place is as clean as I left it), lit a lovely fire. Since, he’s made me a dear little pot of coffee.
Do you find, by the way, that the better the wine, the more satisfying it is, so that one wants to drink less of it? Two small glasses, and I was not at all tempted by the offer of a third.