Went to gym, blah...
Then carried on, all sweaty and smelly, to Albemarle St to check on several gallery exhibits.
Maggi Hambling had a nice show. Her seascapes are very effective and there was a good selection of stuff. From her recent self-portraits, I'd say she's in a pretty glum, mortality-conscious place these days. Actually, I've always thought she was very attractive. Wonder if she'd be interested in 'turning' me? Maybe we could cheer each other up.She drinks Special Brew. Arf.
There were a load of very posh pics over the road at the Belgravia; many pretty Chagall lithographs and stuff, but polished-looking people kept mincing over and asking if they could 'help' me. Do I look like somebody who might be in the market to fritter away a quick £8,000?(No, I look like a scary derelict who might barf on the Braques or something, I guess...)
I finished off gawking at a batch of very orangey-reddy apocalyptic scenes by Richard Harrison, who obviously thinks The End is at hand, too.Some of them were quite impressive in their craggy way. OK.