Saturday: voyaged to London on a sunny morning - slightly stifled by the train ride and an old man struggling to sit calmly next to me and the jangling laughter of sun-happy families.
I went to the White Cube art gallery and experience Antony Gormley's Breathing III - giant, blue-green luminous frames interwoven in a mysterious city and merged in darkness. Figures (other visitors including myself) curiously exploring the structure -- anonymous, shadowy, slow, creeping and mysterious. Then a blinding, eye-scorching bright white light burns down on us -- turning mystery into painful, brutal interrogation.
Lay in a park with a small lawn frothing with flowers reading. Disturbed by wild, running, lumpy children with big, curly heads and unnaturally deep shrieks. Unsettled -- drifted over a bridge and watched a dance exercise at the royal festival hall. Women of all ages.. and ability.. flapping arms and hands and whirling.
Lunch with a friend under a parasol on South Bank. Delicious light and warm air. A waitress: strangely distressed when alone but with a near-manic smile when she spoke to you.
Watched 'Love the Sinner' at the NT - tense, wordy and a little bit boring. Staged in six arguments. Contrived. Weak characterisation and lack of sympathetic characters with the exception, perhaps, of the archbishop. The domestic meets religious institutions, moral ambiguity, confusing, incoherent.
Sunday: running, writing, reading, baking, listening to music, napping, gardening - I planted marrows, strawberries, impatiens and rose morns.
Idyllic with slightly unsettled, restless undertones.