Following on from the conclusion to last week’s discursive, unresolved blog…this time, when I return to the National Gallery, I take the precaution of donning a pair of blinkers and thus manage to avoid being sidetracked by any of the many delightful distractions that fill the multiplicity of rooms containing the Gallery’s own glorious permanent … Continued
Exit the tube at Charing Cross and, as I emerge into the daylight, I’m hit by a decidedly chill wind. It’s definitely all a bit parky, taters and any metaphorical metallic monkey out and about in the urban jungle today would probably be wise to guard his manhood – or maybe that should be monkeyhood. … Continued
Head down to Southwark tube station en route to Tate Modern and today the fifteen-or-so minute walk is actually quite a pleasant perambulation. And, at the risk of lapsing into what I believe might be called an example of the pathetically fallacious, it feels to me like the recent angry icy blasts from the east … Continued
Head on down to Oxford Circus and emerge from the underground straight into the icy blasts of a wind that has, at least according to the TV meteorologists, hurtled itself here non-stop across the tundra and over the Urals, all the way from the dismal dystopian depths of the eternal Siberian winter. Doubtless this is … Continued