First stop: Tate Modern
Very well. I call this
I scream you scream we all scream for ice cream.
When you're cornered, the fight or flight reflex usually kicks in; he's opted to wait it out.
Didn't expect to run into Robocop.
Sure, I've got 10 minutes.
Some of which can be spent wondering if that's a binder or surgery.
If you knew Hetty (like I know Hetty)
Why yes I am, darlin'. The Tate always serves up food for thought.
Hopefully you haven't just eaten.
Hedgehog didn't want to play outside. He didn't want to play dress-up. He didn't want to go sky-diving. He didn't even want his favourite noodles. He was, simply, Not in the Mood.
A heartwarming tale of a hedgehog who wakes up feeling sad without knowing why. But with patience and understanding, his friends help him understand that it's okay to have tough days. Through love and friendship, they show him that feelings, like the weather, can change.
Didn't want to play dress-up? Sounds TERFy.
They've misspelt tat.
And so to another museum.
First, what's this outside?
Not-so-subliminal advertising.
It's not the last we'll be seeing of Grayson Perry today.
Careful, you could poke someone's eye out with
that thing.
You wear it well.
Why I grouped purple, green and white together as board colours. (
Reflections bothering you?)
Thinking of England can indeed make one blue.
What's this called? Hint:
Germaine demonstrating how men sit in public transport.
I like taking pictures of people looking at paintings, OK?
Tim Berners-Lee unaware his daydreams are being projected to the public.
Selfie
From the exhibit
Life and Death: MasksThis would be the after shot.
Lunch. It looks like the tree already ate.
Next I decided to try the Natural History Museum. Big Mistake.
I mean, it was great seeing this column of basalt and everything, but the crowds don't come for the basalt. Retreat!
Ah, the relative peace of the V&A.
What's that you're reading?
The greatest story ever told, you say?
What therefore God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.
That's some serious side-eye.
Told you we'd meet again. (Sorry to make you read on a slant.) I'd never heard of April Ashley. Google quickly ushered me to
this bio:Content warning: this blog contains references to systemic transphobia, gender dysphoria and suicide. We recognise our records contain words that are at times offensive, however some of the original language is preserved here to accurately represent our records and help us fully understand the past.
Time for another break before my night shift, it being Friday and the museum being open til 10. I dived into the bustle of Oxford Street, which I do indeed consider to be a break. Trying to find a good place to lock your bike is always a pain.
Then back to the oasis.
Thank you for recognising I exist, automatic lights in the miniatures room.
Still reading legacy media?
(I feel duty-bound to inform the reader that the ceramics rooms were closed at this point, and I didn't take many pictures in the evening, hence this isn't the actual order in which I saw things. If it weren't for the daylight outside the window I could've gotten away with it.)
At last, art I could do.
I'm also reasonably good at musical chairs.
It turns out spokes were invented the same time as the wheel.
Never look at a lion cross-eyed.
Peeping Tom immortalised in stained glass.
Does your mother know?
A recent acquisition of the National Art Library:
Hustle's the name of the game. It was time to head home through the sparkly city night, but first a visit to the gift shop to see if they had anything in my price range.
(Plastic)Don't let Trump see those.