My disposition for acquiring new works of art could be said to be miserly. We have far too many already! So what was I doing buying six yesterday afternoon?
Biking from the Imperial Square literary encampment, up towards the Montpellier ditto, I passed garages, where my eye caught a large canvas propped up. Turning my head, I saw it was effectively an opportunistic advertisement - for someone selling their paintings. "I'm not getting any younger," she told me, "and the children won't thank me if I leave them all for them to get rid of."
Val - for it was she - went to art school late in life, experimenting then and since with many different styles. The three walls of her Cave might be thought reflect the work of half a dozen different artists therefore.
And if you tire of looking at the closely-arranged canvasses, then the floor is worth studying: what's now a garage must have been a Victorian - or earlier - workshop once upon a time.
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