Hot hot hot. Especially the 1st, when I spent the afternoon and evening swimming, at a meeting and then had supper in Rosa’s. Any time I moved, sweat poured off me. But these things have to be done.
I read Curationism: How Curating Took Over The Art World and Everything Else by David Blazer; The True Story of the Fabulous Killjoys; Jose Saramago’s Death at Intervals; The Philosophy of Andy Warhol; Adam Warren’s Empowered Unchained V1; Hot Naked Kittens: Stories by Delicious Tacos; Andy Clark’s Being There.
Sis and I had Supper at Mosob on the Harrow Road, where were complimented on how well we cleared the good stuff off the plates without filing ourselves to bursting on the soft Eritrean bread.
I had meetings with solicitors, the family IFA, my nephew and Sis about wills, investments and powers of attorney. All of which is a little more attention-taking than you might think. And fitted in an emergency visit to the orthodonist.
Spontaneously, I bought a neat Hugo Boss rectangular watch and went to talk to Number Six in trendy Dray Walk, opposite Rough Trade Records, about a square Tsovet I liked. This is called “distraction”. And I probably needed it.
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