Scorch. Hot. Sweaty. To the rear of Goodge Street tube station. Excuse me....... can you tell me where Tottenham Street is? The middle aged armed policeman replied Tottenham Court Road? The middle aged armed policeman replied to the sweaty cretin standing alongside his response vehicle. In the intense mid afternoon heat I tweaked the end of the middle aged coppers nose and smacked the middle aged chump about his thick middle aged head as his younger colleague located my intended destination on his mobile phone. (My mobile phone of course is on a protest go slow and is currently as much use as a choc ice in the pocket). I was less than a 100 yards from my destination, still it was a brief illuminating detour.
Empty gallery. Had to ring a buzzer. Almost gave up when a friendly face let me enter to stare at the walls for my own personal private view. Drops of sweat staining the gallery floor forming maps of exotic warring territories dripping new borders - which was kind of appropriate as I was marvelling at self described mapmaker Katherine Baxter's small but extraordinary exhibition. And she uses a Rotring pen.........
Dexter was hysterical when I arrived home. It's tragic. It's official, Dexter is senile. Me as well. Cooked a burger. Swigged a lager. Green salad. Coleslaw, chips. Sat outside. Felt exhausted. Opened the post. Folio Society send me some Juvenal postcards and an empty paged Juvenal hardback book with nice ivory paper with a suggestion I can make use of it as a sketchbook. Nice thought. I won't though. I have two more just like it already. A Mark Twain and a Robert Graves. Unmarked graves more like.
Looks like a fine piece of work, David. A lot of sweat and tears for little reward, I guess. Only sold by the Folio Society? How much for a signed copy?
ReplyDeleteThere's a signed copy of Juvenal with your name on it. Too heavy for the postman, you have to collect.
DeleteReally? I'm on my way!
ReplyDelete