KINDNESS VIRUS

There's a kindness virus going round.

After I've paid for my purchases, the girl at the supermarket till brings out a beautiful bouquet of flowers and says "I'm giving you these". Stupidly I say "Why?" She says "Because it's Mother's Day". I don't tell her I'm not a mother but thank her sincerely and take my illicit flowers home.

NOT SO SELF-ISOLATED

I'm fine. Taking self-isolation regularly and always with a large pinch of philosophical salt. What is 'self'? What is 'isolation'? What is salt?

Today I had a hospital appoinment arranged by a wondrous Staff Nurse in the ever more blessed NHS for blood test and ECG and knee x-ray, all needed before hip replacement which now won't happen before 3 or 4 months but anyway, good time to go for tests, quite fun really, bus deserted, streets not crowded, hospital nearly empty, quiet and super-clean with signs everywhere about washing hands etc. Didn't have to wait at all, everybody so friendly, amazed that I don't look my ancientness and am so fit (apart from joints). What could be better than flattery from medical persons who have no reason to flatter you? You can be sure it's bona fide. 

Went for hot chocolate and muffin at Starbucks afterwards, paper cup and paper bag, washed hands first (little bottle of sanitiser goes ieverywheree). Usual crowds and noise absent. Nice.

But of course it's not normal therefore not nice at all. I wish everyone well.

OPERATION HIP DELAYED

Anti-climax.

A phone call and an email with apologies from UCLH announces that my operation (hip resurrection) due to happen on Friday has been cancelled because the hospital needs to reduce the number of patients admitted for surgery at present.

My op will still happen, whenever possible. I don't have the virus and I'm washing my hands constantly, not touching anyone and not doing anything we're not supposed to do. Self-isolating is no problem, it's my normal life. But I'm freaking not going to stay indoors for 4 months, no way! 

I'm simultaneously disappointed and relieved. Like having rehearsed intensively for a show in which I play the leading role then suddenly being told the show is off. Theatre closed. Cast gone. Audience gone. Not gone as in totally gone, but not there.

Please adjust all extra-sensory telepathogenic cosmically superpowerful waves, rays, incantations and other miraculous manoeuvres you were going to aim in my direction on the 20th of March and keep them bubbling somewhere safe until a new date for the NatOp is announced. Thank you very much.

I realise that I'm shamefully ignorant about viruses. Why are they such interestingly modern-arty-looking objects and behave so badly? Are they part of the animal kingdom? Do they have brains? Has anyone ever tried to teach them stuff, like how to be nice to people? Do they communicate with each other? What do they want, apart from destruction?

PRE-OPERATIONAL DIY

I'm not the helpless female type.and could probably survive on a desert island if I have a tool kit and am not eaten by wild animals before being obliged to eat them if edible plants are not available.

DIY jobs around the house have never been a problem but at present the wonky hip makes everything slower and trickier so I enlisted a willing friend to help me install the handrails I bought online. My flat has stairs and when I get home from hospital after the op something to grab hold of when going up the stairs will be necessary. 

The thing about my DIY expertise is that it has to be done My Way or not at all. I allowed my kind but non-DIY friend to hand me tools, hold things in place, sweep up the mounds of plaster dust etc. while I got on with the serious job of drilling, screwing (don't smirk) etc. She may have been bored with her role but I didn't mind. The result is excellent. I'm thinking of offering my DIY skills to the surgeon if he has any trouble fitting new ball & socket in my hip.

BLESSING THE NHS

May all heavenly and earthly blessings rain down upon the blessed NHS and drench it in every kind of goodness, both material and immaterial. That's what I'm saying.

The NHS is not perfect - no human institution is perfect - but the quality of its mercy, the depth of its dedication, skill snd humanity are wondrous to behold. And humour, don't forget humour. I

n a pre-op meeting the other day when I mentioned my age they fell about laughing. In a good way, a great way. They couldn't believe how ancient I am because I only look about nine years old. Well not exactly nine but you know what I mean.

I love the NHS and all who walk, trudge and run down its long, long corridors every minute of the day and night.

BIONIC DATE

I've got a thrilling date on the 20th of March. It won't involve wining, dining, dancing or other forms of seductive entertainment associated with the word "dating".

However it will most definitely include expert inspection of and fooling around with intimate body parts as well as the consumption of mind-altering drugs.

In other words: I'm having a hip replacement operation on that date. Wish me a good time and happiness ever after.

HIP REPLACING AND RETRO BOASTING

I'm being harassed by my right hip which is now the wrong hip as far as I'm concerned. Not quite disabled but am getting on a waiting list for the hip-replacement op. Hard to be thrilled at the prospect of having an erzatz ball & socket joint inserted where my home-grown, long-standing mechanism has inexcusably decided to misbehave. Confidently declaring "I am an arttist and don't have time for this shit" doesn't seem to work.

So I'm going to post some retro self-promotion to prove to myself and anybody else who happens to pass by that I am indeed a lifelong artist-person with a lot of serious artstuff behind me and if my bodymindspirit as well as Whoever Is In Charge of it are willing, there's going to be a lot more artstuff from me still to come.

By the way, if any of you passing by over here can read Dutch please let me know. I'd like help to translate a couple of reviews that were in Dutch press at the time of this exhibition.

For A Song among British Library Treasures

To the British Library yesterday to sloat (see and gloat) at my For A Song displayed among their Treasures. Coincidentally my mother, Blanche, used to call me mon trésor. If that isn't foresight I don't know what is.

There it sits surrounded by other treasures in the contemporary Art of the Book display case. There are many magnificent objects in the whole room but the lighting is very dim, no doubt to protect fragile ancient volumes, and it was nearly closing time hence only a couple of photos. I will go back.

Dear Christine exhibition opens at ARTHOUSE1 in London

The Private View of the Dear Christine exhibition at ARTHOUSE1 was packed to the rafters last night, no room to move but I managed to snap a few shots.  Many thanks to Fionn Wilson and to everyone who made this event such a great success.

LEAVING EU

Nothing to say about the event on 31st January, the headlines, the talking heads, the yelling, the boasting. Another sad day in history.

But this by John Crace is worth reading.