Hot and Cold with Camille Pissarro

I watched The Moderns with my tongue lolling in a tub of Peach Melba yogurt. A slow
deliberate film it was a bit tedious as an art film, and perhaps pretentious, but we do have a limited selection of movies that fall even remotely in the art bracket. It did make me laugh though, being nicely droll and intentionally silly. But I imagine if you have no particular interest in Paris in the 1920's, and American artists in that context, well it might not be a very good film.

Earlier, licking the knife I was using to play with the cheese under the broiler, I had scalded my tongue.

Camille Pissarro again. Although he was still awful I can't deny that he was good. The three or four large pictures around 1890 were the pick. The earlier stuff is interesting only because it is the earlier stuff. The later stuff has more substance but he manages somehow to make them boring. In a lot of cases I found his studies far superior to his finished works.

I think he probably tried too hard, but it's honestly a bit difficult to tell a hundred odd years later. He would've been pleased with me not being a hasty passer-by anyway.

Yesterday morning a girl sat beside me on the bus. And her legs were absolutely freezing. At least her left one was. Well, not absolutely freezing - it wasn't exactly the temperature of Absolute Zero. I think.

It was sending cold currents up my right side though. I didn't say anything to her, reckoning she had enough problems with a leg that cold. Made me wonder about her heart.

Paul Dorrell warns you to "Never mock a traditionalist unless you can do better, and don't mock them even then."