October 30th, 2009

Carravaggio

a brightly coloured pariah

The jacarandas are out. I love purple trees. Purple trees are all right by me. Even my poor wee tree is out, not that I rever get to see it, banished to the back and hidden by other, uglier trees as it was the SOP at the time. So I can't see it, but I can see the fall of purple flowers. I love you, spindly purple tree.
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merlin subtext

if you leave me, can I come too?

Last night, since the conversation rolled around to the PRB (and I can't remember why, but it did) we put on the first episode of Desperate Romantics (aka Carry On up Gower Street). It's fun, what I saw of it, and not the least bit a serious study of 19thC art or 19thC anything really, and I think I prefer to revel in the glam rock/punk vibe they have happening rather than any regrettable comparison to the 90s "art" "movement", which, to my delight, has finally been poked as being more far more attitude than (slender) aptitude.

Much of which has been levelled at the PRB but I don't care because I still love their stuff. I had a book of fairy stories as a small child and it was full of pre-raph-esque illustrations and I loved it to bits and thus they will always have a place in my heart (much like the children's pictorial encyclopaedia which I also treasured and I still get a particular thrill everytime I see something I remember from it, like the dead dog from Pompeii or Michelangelo's Piety).

Oh, I know how we got onto the PRB, the Antiques Roadshow was on when I walked through the door and there was a painting with Chinese lanterns in it and I love an impressionist painting with lanterns, like that Degas one and the Peanut Gallery was talking about Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose (aka darnation, silly, silly pose on account of it being a bitch to paint) which he'd seen at that exhibition in Brisbane I'd missed (sulk sulk grizzle grizzle) and then onto the PRB and then onto Aidan Turner and Rafe Spall dropping trou. So easy, when you think about it.
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