
Unlike many people, it seems, I love the Underground, and most especially the people on it. I have been drawing them, or rather, taking notes on them, ever since I was a teenager. Last night, on the way to rehearse Mozart. 15 minutes on the Jubilee line. 24 3 16

A strange day: began with the notification from Nigel Clarke? of what was happening at a nearby metro to him in Brussels: Nigel, being the person that he is, immediately grabbed all the first aid gear that he could find, and went to offer his assistance. Meanwhile I was listening to Thomas Simaku?’s impassioned, so human music in York, as the news from Belgium flickered across the computer screen. And then the train home, downhill south, with a carriage-load of people being strikingly gentle to each other, solicitous the slightly distressed Red Setter at the end of the carriage, maybe drinking slightly more Gin than was advisable for a weeknight. We passed a blazing electricity substation at Grantham, right by the track. The woman across the aisle said: ‘It’s a strange, dramatic day”, with deep melancholy. I found myself drawing the blaze from memory, as it welled up, filtered through the lens of Joseph Wright, and Turner’s paintings of Parliament in flames, and that blazing car wreck, by the side of the road in ‘The Inisider’. And in my memory, the faces of the fireman, in the flames, blazed copper. 22 3 16

Time with Ludolf Bakhuizen’s ‘Boats in a Storm’- and a group of wonderful school children admiring his wonderful seascape. 9 3 16
Posted on March 9th, 2016 by Peter Sheppard Skaerved