Rhysaurus came over for a cup of coffee yesterday. He is healing after his hospital trauma, poor thing, and managed to walk all the way over to our house. We have resolved to find as many art gallery openings that sport free booze as possible. We’re all poor, struggling artists with livers that desperately need pickling. In fact I’m sure it would be possible to fill our social calendars with events that offered some “hospitality” if we looked in the right places. Of course, there’s the cultural aspect to consider as well, and all the interesting people we would meet and fascinating creations which we would be introduced to. But I’m willing to put up with that for a free glass or two of lukewarm Blossom Hill.
We have been rearranging “Night” just recently for cornet and guitar and after a few aborted attempts at writing an accompaniment to the original guitar line we decided to let the cornet take that melody and write something new for the guitar, which I did last night in front of the final slalom run in the Men’s Combined event. If you listen carefully you can hear the influence of massed alpine horns in my expert placement of the B flat.
Honest.
If any of you are launching a modern retrospective on the future of pre-Raphaelite art in the late 19th century, let me know.
2 comments:
I was planning to put on an exhibition of mediocre entry-level new world wines and give away paintings for guests to nibble on instead of canapes at the exhibition launch bash.
In the end I decided to put on a shirt and a pair of trousers instead.
That's a coincidence - me too, except I put on airs and graces instead.
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