Normally I’m a 12 hour a day, seven days a week kind of working person - I love my job, but Mrs Artistica put her foot down when she announced we were going on a decent holiday - no argument!

So, with a couple of grand on the hip and the car freshly serviced we set off for sunny London town to see, amongst other things, the much discussed Tate rehang. I’d love to report that I was knocked sideways by the new layout or even that I was disappointed by it - truth is it had no descernable effect on me except that a few old friends were out of the vault and back on display. What I really like about the Tate Mod is the feeling of wonderment I get - like a child in Disneyland…

I’m pleased to say that my favourite piece of artwork was there, Duchamp’s “The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even” - gets me every time that one. And, since I came out of the closet and faced the fact that “I am a lover of surrealist art” - I was happy to see the Surrealists in Poetry and Dream.

The Kandinsky exhibition, “The Path to Abstraction”, was a wonderful experience, as was the UBS collection - but Howard Hodgkin was awful - but I’m not going to go there.

Next day we did the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition - funny to see some of the art “luvvies” reaction to the giant statue of a pregnant woman by Damien Hirst - you’d have thought that they would have got used to this sort of thing by now - hey ho…

Finally, our path inevitably wound round town to the National Portrait Gallery, Mrs Artistica’s spiritual home - thence to Waxy’s Little Sister pub in Wardour Street for a few lazy drinks people-watching at the window - what can I say - the quintessential English art day out - lovely!

The following Saturday it was off to St Ives - a seriously unpleasant six hour drive in the sweltering heat - what did we do before we had aircon? I always get a twinge of excitement when I cross the Tamar no matter how many times I go - and this time was no exception. After farting about with the no parking/tourist riddled narrow streets we finally made it to our little holiday flat on the harbour front. Felt like home!

Next morning we were off to the Barbara Hepworth Museum and Sculpture Garden - my personal Garden of Eden. There is a feeling in that place, behind those high walls, that you have left St Ives and it’s summer visitors and have been transported to a pure place - not of the 21st century on battered old Mother Earth. Her work is, in my eyes, the finest sculpture ever produced. Sorry Michelangelo, Moore, Giacometti and all you giants in the world of sculpture, this is the girl for me.

Fortunately there was no major Alfred Wallis presence that ruined my first visit to Tate St Ives (thinks - I wonder if one day they’ll pair Alfred Wallis with Howard Hodgkin in a large grey shed somewhere). The John Hoyland exhibition, The Trajectory of a Fallen Angel was a triumph! I was bowled over by this fantastic display of abstract modern art - huge canvasses that screamed their prescence into the quiet rooms. GO AND SEE HIS WORK!

Apart from a few odds and sods and a bit of seagull dodging the rest of the holiday saw me sat by the open picture windows reading my books and just chillin’…

Back in harness tomorrow - just thought I’d share.

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