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What is it with face tattoos? I’m not a tattoo fan as it is but, if you ask me, getting your face covered in ink is s bit psycho. What is the person saying to the world? The only reason I bring this up is because I saw two men at the ICA with them this morning. It was very disturbing.
Not so disturbing was the new footpath. It was completely walkable, allaying my fears from the other day that it would be impassable after the asphalt went down.
Very pretty though it didn’t feel any different to before. Except for the lack of potholes in the stretch above. Whenever it rained, they would fill with water and, in the winter, the water would freeze over and create little ice rinks for the pixies. It meant some judicious dodging in shopping trolley movement.
I also saw Harald at the ICA. That wasn’t disturbing, just unusual. I often see Annette but rarely Harald.
We briefly chatted about his recent boys away trip to southern Germany, climbing hills in walking boots while the mercury rose to 40°. I said he was insane. He laughed.
On the way back from the shop, I spotted this little fellow in the path.
Was it a slow worm or a baby snake? Whichever it is, I hope it managed to get across the open path before someone rode over it on a bike. The heat has obviously brought it out in the open, indulging in a little (mis)adventure.
Speaking of bikes, someone found one in the river in the last couple of days and decided to display it on the small dock near the pedestrian bridge. At first, I thought it was just parked there while the owner went for a walk but, as I got closer, I realised it looked more like it had come from Davey Jones’ locker. Or, at least, the river equivalent.
Or is it making a point about parking?
While it was still hot here in Trosa (though not even close to 40°) it was cooler than the last few days because of persistent cloud cover and infrequent breezes. But, in saying that, it was also quite humid, which made me disinclined to do much. Though I did, finally, put another small shelf in the pantry.
The shelf is in answer to Mirinda’s claim that she could never find the cumin. I explained that it just hid behind the various other herbs and spices, getting shifted around every time I use something other than cumin. Obviously, the solution was to put a little shelf up higher than the other stuff. Now the cumin is very obvious.
Apart from making Mirinda chilled avocado soup and cooking dinner, that was about it for me today. Though, being a Wednesday meant it was an early dinner because of art class.
And it was another excellent session this week with Dr Amy taking us through the 19th century changes wrought by the invention of photography, the changes made to Paris by Haussmann and the art of the nude.
Tonight we looked at Manet and how he helped topple the female nude from perfection to reality. He was not alone in this. Courbet, who I mentioned last week, dealt perfection a bit of a blow with his controversial painting, The Sleepers.
This painting shocked Paris, most notably because the two ladies were not exactly sleeping.
As for Haussmann, his renovating of Paris into a city of boulevards, had the effect of pushing the poor out of the city, where they could no longer afford to live and into the outskirts were they could be ignored. This was in sharp contrast to the Paris prior to the changes when all levels of society lived cheek by jowl, a leftover from the French Revolution which endeavoured to make all French people equal.
And, of course, I asked some questions again this week and made Dr Amy laugh.
My first question was in regard to the Manet painting Music in the Tuileries Gardens. In the painting, Manet included a lot of real people, mostly men in big top hats, dressed in dark coats, wearing big black beards.
It was while we were looking at the painting that I realised there was a little figure in the crowd who looked a bit out of place. In fact, I thought it might be Santa Claus. This is what made Dr Amy laugh. She was delighted by the thought that Manet would include a Secret Santa in his famous painting.
She went and had a look at the painting during the break and reported back that it was actually Manet’s father, wearing a red hat.
Another question I asked was whether the romanticised female nude of most of arts history explained why Ruskin was so shocked by Effie Grey’s pubic hair. The answer was a resounding yes. “100%” She said emphatically.
So, another excellent session. I really feel I am learning a lot from the National Gallery Stories of Art 1800-1900. I’m also becoming quite the fan of Manet. Not Monet, as Mirinda hastily pointed out. One vowel makes all the difference, she said. This is true. Monet does nothing for me.
