It's no go for Gauguin but green light elsewhere .

Went to the National on Wednesday . We had comps for the Gauguin portraits exhibition .

Now , normally I wouldn't have bothered , having had an aversion to said Gauguin since I was obliged to study him a bit for my academic History of Art exams .I could have said "comps or not its no go " and buggered off to loose myself in the Jan Van Eyck self portrait ( as I regularly do ).

I thought , though ,  that I should employ the same principle I do to most things - take a fresh look then open your mind before you open your mouth .
I carefully separated the man , the paintings and the customs and expectations of his time .


That's a half hour I won't get back .

There was a gallery attendant ( looking like Edris Elba ) perched on a little chair .
I said " do you like these ?"
He said " sometimes I do "
 I said " and like me sometimes you don't ".
We had a quiet giggle together and I went off to buy a Dega postcard in preference to a Gauguin .


Today we went off in the rain in the bumbling country bus . The route took the usual detours to villages beginning to prepare for Advent .

A curry for lunch , three bookshops  and then round to the market square . They had had " switch on "last Sunday.

The square  had a huge tree and garlands on gables and old lampposts  .

Everything was bedecked in white and Emerald lights .

In the fading light and drizzle it spoke of the bright white light that hope delivers .

It spoke of how  ever present  and timeless greenness is in spite of all circumstances  .

We sat on a bench in the dark and drizzle .
I remembered where we were this time last year ( see post Dec 19 / 12 / 2018 ) and my heart danced in the lovely light .
"Come on " the saxophonist said " or we shall miss the bus " and I grinned at him out of all proportion to what he had just said .

Piccalilli and Topaz .

I  have always hated piccalilli . I find that your taste buds and sensibilities change over time .I had a speculative taste and loved piccalilli . Not sure what that says about me .

Anyway ,  I tried various types . Then I went to the market and bought two sets of ingredients . Veg diced small and plenty of mustard in one . Beetroot , red onion and red cabbage in the other . The latter comes out a glorious purple . I have yet to try it .


We have timed tickets for the major Hogarth exhibition at the Soanes . We have always loved sliding the wooden panels back and seeing each treat appear .
The attendant in the Hogarth room is real East End . He stood there looking cheesed off with life , heard us talking about the paintings and came over . He has read every book he can find on the period and the artist . He can tell you marvellous snippets about small details in the paintings you had never noticed before .
I wonder if the curator of this new exhibition can drop as many aitches in such an erudite fashion as our man or seem like he is a refugee from one of Hogarth's paintings . We will see .


Pushed my hair back the other day and discovered it has grown long enough to put it up again .Think of a slightly ruffled ballet dancers hair - like that .

This , then , is the excuse to get out my jewelry boxes . Over the years I have collected  silver and semi precious stones . Artisan and handmade . Think Elizabethan portrait but silver and stones and not gold .
I have dipped the plain silver things and am painstakingly doing each semi precious by hand .


I bought a new mascara in London the other day from a pop up in Carnaby Street . It's called "better than sex ". I rather doubt it somehow but each to their own .


So 
dishevelled ballerina hair , that mascara , and the freshly shone citrine , topaz , garnet and amathyst etc glimmering on my ears . That's me for Christmas .

Must think what my Christmas books will be this year too . Might do another nice fat Anthony Trollope , will fit in the Hogarth biography but have not decided on what else . Any ideas ?