notes from the diary

skimming through an old notebook (well current, just underused) and smiled upon reading an entry I had made following a visit to London to scour galleries:
"Your success will depend on how well you cope with these setbacks"
I take it I had not had a very encouraging response from the people I had seen among the Hip-Arterati.
As another new show is celebrated with a party in Sheffield tomorrow, and some finishing touches to new works for another show opening in two weeks, things are arguably slightly rosier.

Can we go, now?

Mind was drifting in slow moving traffic through Woodseats. Various pedestrians and assorted social detritus caught my attention for as long as was necessary to consciously recognise the need to look at something less boring. Then my mind double took at what the eyes had so lazily passed on, namely a grandmother out with two children, the group arrested at a picture framers window. Grandma, in charge of the children for the easter duties while mum worked on, I surmised, had decided on a stroll along the high street as suitable distraction for her young charges. Both of whom looked as if they had been sold tickets for Alton Towers only to arrive at the gates of Ripleys Just Amazing. But through the glass of the picture framer's window, Grandma is identifying a variety of exciting destinations upon a world map that sits proudly in its freshly gilded frame, a testament to the shop proprietors handiwork. Her excited gesticulations begin to transport the younger of the two children, magic carpet like, through moroccan bazaars and polar ice caps, yellowcab filled honking new york streets and atacama deserts... I am filled with a sense of wunderlust as I empathise momentarily with the junior wanderer. Having realised one or two of the momentous journeys that the Grandma is illustrating, I feel a mixture of pride and jealousy that another young traveler is formulating the beginnings of the desires that may ultimately drive him from his homeland. His reverie is shattered moments later by his elder sibling who has lost interest and seeks more immediate amusement elsewhere on the immediate high street. From behind the silence of my car closed window I can only just make out the words that she laboriously mouths... "can we go, I'm bored". Ironically, it will probably be those exact same words that her younger brother will use when deciding to make all those amazing journeys.