1. I watch the Grayson Perry documentary on class mostly to see Clare (and Alec) but I find it fascinating – not particularly new ideas but elegantly encapsulated in precise phrases and neatly illustrated, both in the documentary and what we saw of the tapestries. I’m not surprised that I identify so much with the people in Clare’s segment (those concerned most with cultural capital) but still amused when Amanda says something almost word for word the same as I wrote on a blog post on Monday (about it being the journey of finding vintage items and at a cheap price). I’m not unique and beautiful snowflake – but I’m ok with that. (Wait, am I allowed to be ok with that? Someone please pass me the middle class rule book.)
2. I’m rather obsessed with colour at the moment – even more so than usual – and I can’t stop myself defining, digesting, spots of colour on the bus to drama. The bay windows on the block of flats: grey-brown with red hint, DMC mocha, fuzzy, warm but dull. The carpet shop sign: shiny indigo, a ribbon from childhood, I want to stroke its smoothness. The fresh, rich green of the sign near the station, like a planter I bought recently, a solid colour I imagine would be firm to the touch. The car that’s a yellow stripped of warmth, from the green side of the colour wheel rather than the orange, but not quite the green ‘high vis yellow’ either. The muted grey – warmed with tan flecks – fluffy fur of the small dog leaving the vets: I want to stroke that too.
3. Overhearing amusing idle chatter, or banter as I suppose they would call it.
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