bright spots

While my nights are currently plagued by bad dreams and Elon Musk (how dare he sneak into a nightmare?) in what, I’m sure anyone with a modicum of psychological perspicacity might agree, is the result of Weltschmerz, my waking week has been full of bright spots.

{I wrote this on Friday and today, Saturday, I read the excellent Robert Shrimsley in the FT Magazine saying he, too, is suffering ‘Trump trauma’ and wakes, screaming, from a dream in which he has been hired by Musk. In answer to your question: no, Robert, it’s not just you.]

I finished this wonky cross quilt which is deliberately similar to the one I have already made which might very well have disappeared in suspicious circumstances had I not made a second version, this time with a touch of Irish green in a nod to Cian, Phoebe’s partner, who now finds himself living with a LOT of bright pink.

I also finished the socks I started knitting in Stockholm using Arwetta sock yarn which comes in masses of lovely colours. I used the Summer Lee pattern but added an extra flower on each heel and a row of flower heads just before shaping the toes because, much as I like pink, I need something more to look forward to when going round and round in a plain spiral which allows invasive thoughts to, well, invade.

The back of the quilt is also very big bright spot, with a Philip Jacobs wisteria design.

Elsewhere, I went to Two Temple Place to see the ‘Lives Less Ordinary’ exhibition despite knowing that I would not be happy with it. Samantha Manton, the curator, has been quoted as saying, “We’re rejecting the middle-upper-class gaze that has steered working-class representation, the sensationalising and the stereotyping that happens in a fetishistic way.” What? Even if I knew fully what that meant, I beg to differ. Let’s just begin with the irony of holding a show with the subtitle ‘Working-Class Britain Re-seen’ in ridiculously grand interiors with impressive stained glass and wood-carving in a place built for the super-wealthy William Waldorf Astor. I don’t often agree with Jonathan Jones, but I think he’s right this time.

[by Eric Tucker]

On the other hand, it was a chance to see a couple of paintings by Eric Tucker, the subject of the really brilliant, affectionate, insightful, and often very funny book by his nephew, Joe Tucker. The Secret Painter has been a bright spot in my recent reading, all the more enjoyable for it being set in Warrington with excursions to Manchester and the City Art Gallery. Next to Eric Tucker’s work were paintings by several of the Pitmen Painters which I like for their directness and authenticity. In fact, the brightest spots in a dubious exhibition are the work by people who actually live or lived the lives they depict.

[Twiggy, 1966, one of the first publicity photos]

Then there was the new Twiggy film which was the chance to enjoy many great Sixties moments, hairstyles, clothes, false and painted-on eyelashes, and plenty of good knitwear, amidst endless inane and impertinent questions asked by male interviewers.

And here she is at a Beatles recording session in 1968 (Paul McCartney sings ‘Blackbird’ in the film). And it wasn’t just Twiggy who was asked unanswerable questions - as was very clear in Bob Dylan: No Direction Home (2005) which happily filled a couple of evenings. It’s fascinating to watch his bafflement at being expected to respond to patronising interviewers. They are never going to win. Just as they didn’t with the Beatles whose irreverence was one of their superpowers.

And the kitchen is full of daffodils from the allotment.

It’s always worth finding the bright spots.

Happy Sunday!