heart of stone

Even though it isn't true anymore, one day I will publish a book of photographs of sculpture entitled "I only love women with hearts of stone".

I met la Jeune Tarentine in 2003 and was entranced as long as I could stay with her. Even with the evidence of chisel marks on the plinth and her slightly stylised facial features, it was hard to believe she was not about to take a breath and roll over languidly. She may be 99 years older than me, but she will stay heart-achingly lovely long after I am dust and and can no longer remember her.

the Cape rocks

and plants and other bits of nature. In the middle of London! Talking of the British Museum, they may have raped and pillaged half the globe during the empire years to populate the displays inside, but they get serious Brownie Points for making most of the South Africa display outside about my favourite floristic region.

Still on till the end of October, before they carry off those Aloes to the safety of heated glasshouses in Kew. Get there while you can. On second thoughts, I took those photos in July and it's already autumn there. Those flowers must be looking pretty sad by now. Just come here instead for the real thing.

history lesson for the day

A random snippet from our London-Paris-London-Mallorca-London trip in July, this amazing fact: did you know that the Romans had glass manufacture all sorted out by AD 100? It was a surprise to me. If the thought had even crossed my mind I would have assumed they only had ceramic or some kind of tin or lead alloy for drinking ware, or the usual gold and silver for the rich.

But not only did they have glass, they were already making baubles of loveliness like this.

Although the patina of 2000 years does add a certain something, I'd bet that this would be the next hot thing if someone made it today.

(British Museum: Mould-blown glass beaker. Made in the eastern Mediterranean about AD 70—100. From Tyre.)