All Good Wishes 
to every one of you!

Alice is humouring me for once: this is a post with lots of pictures of yours truely! 

As we said around this time last year, our household does not subscribe to any traditional religion, but we still like to celebrate this point in the year. After all, it's the Solstice when we rejoice at the earth turning away from those dark nights and the sun staying over the horizon for longer: Yuletide!

Apologies, of course, to any of you from the Southern Hemisphere who're now at the height of Summer, and those unfortunate enough not to experience seasons at all, like we do here.

It's a good time to remember old friends (send cards, or an email, or even an "eCard"); to try and be generous to those we love (yes, I know, however difficult they might be at times) and donate something to those less fortunate. And I'm afraid there's never a shortage of those - so, come on, dig down, 'cause every little helps.

I did my best to help with decorating the tree, honest, but I seemed to have got in a bit of a muddle and had to be rescued. Oh dear.

[Click on these tiny photos to see a bigger version, won't you.]

But it was all sorted out in the end. And Alice had managed to write and post the cards and we did get all the presents wrapped, as you can see.

I have my very own special tree: I just love watching the lights twinkle like this.

Magical.

Alice's Christmas dinner wasn't as colourful this year, with only "yellow" beetroot. But she says it's less messy and just as tasty.

My favourite part, however, was that hot mince pie with icecream on top, plus a couple of teaspoons of Cointreau.
Mmmmm.

The cartoon below, featuring Nemi, was in the Metro the other day - that's the free paper that's usually available on the buses, or the Tube if you're in London.
We thought it was a good note to end on.
 

Tyrion is one of Alice's favourite characters in George R R Martin's Song of Ice and Fire saga: he has plenty of pithy sayings to quote. The Ice Dragon is a delightful children's book from GRRM, with marvellous illustrations by the talented Luis Roy. 

 Here's hoping you each have a good read to take to bed with you these chilly nights.

To Infinity and Beyond! 

Actually this post really hasn't got anything to do with Buzz Lightyear (what a simply wonderful name that is) to whom the above title can properly be ascribed. Funnily enough, Alice has interjected (as she does), this was the first multi-word pronouncement she heard her grandson utter as a very young child - which she had to get his older sister to translate from toddler-speak and explain, not at that time being au fait with Toy Story herself. Later, she got to see the film and was enchanted.

The saying was actually top in a recent Radio Times poll of favourite film quotes, from a selection of 50. The one Alice voted for, "Tears in rain" scored high as well, at number eight. See somewhere or other below (we will get to it in due course) if you don't know that one.

However, did you know the phrase in question (do concentrate!) may in fact be a reference or even a Disney homage to the final chapter title in 2001: A Space Oddyssey? [This link is to a new trailer for the current re-release.] The words there are "Jupiter and beyond the Infinite". They appear when we're about to pass through the stargate, in the famous psychedelic sequence which brought the hippies into the audience for an ultimate trip.

IF you've already seen the film, you can relive that awesome trip here, and then here. [Update: YouTube has removed these clips!] But don't spoil the experience if you haven't - just go & see it all - soon! (Or get the DVD / Blu-ray if you've missed it on the big screen.)

You may already be aware that we love Science Fiction, both the written (especially Iain M Banks) and the filmed. But I don't think we've told you that Alice has always loved vistas of the stars. When she was only a girl, and before there was so much pollution in city air, she used to spend hours looking at the sky from her bedroom window. Even then, I think she must have known that's where she really came from, and it's true "we are stardust" as Joni Mitchell sang in her Woodstock song. There are notes, by the way, about Yasgur's Farm, where the Festival was held, on the singer's website. And here's some real stardust, in the heavenly Orion nebula. Well, I like appropriate puns, even if Alice thinks I'm being puerile!

Young Alice used to say she wanted to be the first woman Astronomer Royal - not aware then that s/he wasn't in charge of the Greenwich Observatory. Just in case, however, her parents got her a proper telescope: nothing like as powerful as you could get yourself today, but good enough to see the craters on the moon, or (just about) the stripes and satellites of Jupiter.

She remembers going out one night in October 1957 to watch the little bright dot that was the Soviet Union's Sputnik, the first earth-orbiting artificial satellite, crossing the sky and launching the start of "The Space Age".

Nowadays, we can find gorgeous images from space at NASA's site, or on the one for the Hubble Telescope, launched in 2002. We take for granted the existence of an International Space Station; deep space probes, and robots on Mars or even the comet Philae.

I've just had to remind Alice that this post was supposed to be about 2001 and Interstellar, and she's let Google carry her away - again! She reminds me that the Moon landings didn't happen until 1969, when one of the crew was Edwin "Buzz" Landrin! So it all links together, she says, and I must be patient.

Recently we went to see Interstellar, then shortly afterwards the restored 2001: A Space Oddyssey, which is part of the BFI's Sci-Fi: Days of Fear and Wonder season. The BBC has also had an interesting series of programmes on the Unearthly History of Science Fiction.

It's hard to believe that 2001 originally came out in 1968, and had no access to the CGI of todays' film-makers. (Nor did the original 1982 version of Blade Runner for that matter.) Almost any review we can link to will have spoilers, I'm afraid. You have been warned!

I touched it too!

A contemporary review still exists from the Hollywood Reporter, which said "the cinematography of Geoffrey Unsworth and John Alcott invests this awesome achievement with credibility and visual magnificence." Still true, indeed.

You can read a very thoughtful 1968 review entitled 2001: the Monolith and the Message at Roger Ebert's blog. It's totally full of spoilers of course, but ends with the words "a beautiful parable about the nature of man." Roger Ebert died in 2013: the Guardian celebrates the critic and reviews a recent documentary about him.

Rotten Tomatoes just lists quotes from each critic, so it's up to you to follow them up or not. Here's an example (from the year 2001!): Awesome, influential, mind-blowing, cool, obsessional, pretentious -- 2001 is all of these. Yup, that as well.

Mark Kermode on Radio 5

This BBC article, with interviews of Keir Dullea (Dave Bowman) and Gary Lockwood (Dr Frank Poole) is more about the making of the film, than a review as such, and is well worth a read.

Mark Kermode's recent 5 Live review literally contains a wopping "Wow!" for what he calls the best bit of jump-cut editing in cinema history. [You can see that cut on YouTube.] He also points out how the most sympathetic character is HAL, the onboard computer (spookily given voice by Douglas Rain) with a mind of its own. Nothing like the Star Wars droids R2-D2 or C-3PO. And thereby hangs much of the tale...

The Right Stuff

According to Empire Online, 2001 is the first of five films you should see before going to Interstellar. The others are Alien (1979), Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1997), The Right Stuff (1983, about the Mercury 7 mission), and Contact (1997). Christopher Nolan comments on them too. How many can you tick? Alice has just got hold of a DVD of Contact, to refresh her memory, and she might yet get The Right Stuff as it's the only one she doesn't know.

[P.S. She got it for Christmas: our verdict is that it's extremely long (at over three hours) and the plotting is somewhat slow in places - but it is most informative, plus pretty fast and exciting when the Space Race gets hot. So, it's paws up from us, well worth the watch.]

Ripley and Newt in Aliens

We'd also add Aliens (1986) to the list, mostly because we think it's even better than its predecessor, while Sigourney Weaver is almost always well worth watching.

Interestingly, Contact has in common with  Interstellar a powerful theme about a father-daughter relationship, while the Alien films have an extremely strong Mother presence.

I hope you're clicking on the images to see them larger.
 
Most recently, Alice took me to Interstellar yet again - she was so wowed by it.
Well, yeh, OK, I thought it was kind'uh cool, too.

There are oodles of reviews and articles about this latest movie. Just Google it and you'll find pages and pages of links.

Some of the most interesting, Alice thinks, are the ones that explore the physics behind the plot, and the making of images like the one here.

One of the most comprehensive and illuminating of these is at Wired. [Scroll down to get to the text and video.] It includes an interview with and comments by Kip Thorne, the CalTech physicist who contributed his equations to the visual effects personel, and was surprised himself at the fantastic results. He's published a book for the general public on The Science of Interstellar, and reckons he can get at least two published articles of hard science from his work for the film.

Another article in this vein, which looks at Thorne's book as well, is at Scientific American.

One review (among many) you might find interesting is this by Mark Kermode again. He's not 100% positive, stating that although the film does have heart, it sometimes succumbs to its own sentimentality. He nevertheless praises Nolan as a master of the cinematic spectacle who understands the power of light.

Alice admits she had a tear in her eye at several points, but she's not complaining. I'm obliged to be permanently dry-eyed I'm afraid, but that doesn't mean I'm cold-hearted: I thought the personal bits were truely touching.

Both 2001 and Interstellar are very long; both are mind-teasingly mysterious, and both feature ravishingly beautiful, or at the least incredibly stunning, visual sequences. Rowan Righelato of the Guardian makes an excellent comparison of the two films.

Of 2001 he states that: an essentially purely visual piece of cinema, Kubrick allows the film’s meaning to be entirely subjective. The director hoped [it] would stimulate the “mythological and religious yearnings and impulses” in the viewers' own subconscious mind.

Of Interstellar, he says: Its abiding message is also one of hope, but Nolan gives us the fierce faith of familial survival rather than the fulfilment of an existential destiny, celebrates human love rather than spiritual transcendence... 

He concludes: for all it’s beauty, it’s myth and music, 2001 is a solitary experience, while Interstellar is a tribute to what holds us together. 

Plenty of food for thought, then. Me? I just enjoyed them both - lots.

"What about tears in rain?" you may well be asking. No, we haven't forgotten. It comes in Blade Runner (1982). There's a spoiler-full synopsis here. Near the very end, the dying replicant, Roy Batty, has an incredible speech.

In 2012 at the Centro Sperimentale di Cinematografia in Milan, Rutger Hauer, looking his age but still full of life, talked about his delight in playing the part. The actor was largely responsible for tweaking the script into the final words, and attributes them to "the poet in me". The video by televisionet is on YouTube.

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe ... Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those… moments… will be lost in time, like ... tears … in … rain. 
Time… to die…

But that special moment does still live for us, both in the original film and the many others inspired and influenced by the urge to travel all the way - to Infinity and Beyond.

Pre-Christmas Spirit 

I have to tell you, I was quite hurt that Alice was so full of excitement about the Nick Cave film (see our previous post below) that she didn't include a single picture of me. It is a joint venture, you know, this blog! So she's making up for it by adding this one here.

We're happily (mostly) into the Pre-Christmas spirit. In other words, we've bought the presents (but not wrapped them up yet); we've fetched the bumper Radio Times (but not read it yet); we've got the cards (but not written them yet) and even the stamps (but not stuck them on yet). What's more, we've purchased several packets of mince-pies, (and enjoyed quite a few) and aquired some cherry liqueur chocolates (and eaten rather a lot).

That's what I call getting our priorities right.

Have you tried a hot mince pie with ice-cream, plus a couple of teaspoons of Cointreau? Heavenly.
Here's a preview for our next again post, which will be about Interstellar [the link is to a trailer, so don't follow if you still haven't seen it and want to be totally fresh] plus the film depicted to the left.

The oldies among you maybe saw this one when it first came out. It's been showing again (in a restored digital format) and moreover is artistically just as fresh as it was back in 1968. [Clue.]

Yes, our Alice has fully emerged from her Underground sojourn, and is all set to bring you her feast of movies. But she's vowed not to begin that until the cards are a wrap. [Ho, ho, ho ... ]

Further thoughts on 20,000 Days on Earth
[Updated 22 January 2015] 

Alice loved this film so much, she's hoping "Santa" (you know who you are) will get her the Blu-ray... You can see the trailer here. It won the directing and the editing awards in World Cinema Documentary when it premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in January this year. So there!

At her Film Group discussion, some-one dismissed Nick Cave as "a self-centred, self-aggrandising narcissist" - or words to that effect. She spluttered, but as no-one else had actually seen the film, not even the complainer, she wants to reassure you that this is not the usual biopic by any means at all!

Muriel & Giorgia Del Don in RedMilk admit this, and add that [it's] a free dive into the mind of an artist who is incredibly profound, humane and surprising... They felt that the film enables us to take a peep through the chinks of the “celebrity”, NickCave. His artistic alter-ego shows us how much that is extraordinary and awe-inspiring lies behind the façade. Forsyth and Pollard’s film has a rare stylistic beauty...

An interview with the man himself, by Joe Lynch, explains how the movie was created: While conversations emerge organically (unscripted) each scene ... was meticulously constructed ... We used sets. Nothing is real (apart from the car and the recording studio). Nick concluded: It was quite an interesting way to tease out some 'truths,' to get to something more authentic even though we were using contrivances. It's a great article: go read it for yourelf at billboardbiz.

Even the sceptical Mark Kermode concluded his Guardian review by saying, Cave may not believe in God or the devil, but his art most certainly does – in much the same way that this fascinatingly self-obsessed film believes in Cave.

From one of Nick Cave's notebooks

Here's yet another fascinating (yes, really) interview, also about making the film, but in addition very illuminating on Nick's creativity as a writer and performer. It's at a website entitled bandwidth, and includes an edited audio version.

Alice must stop Googling "Nick Cave" etc soon, or we'll be at this all day, and no lunch either. Still, it's fun, too, she protests. Oh well... [Sigh] All right. Do try this one at the Telegraph, which talks about his notebooks; his supposed "archive," and the sessions with the analyst, Darian Leader.

If you're into the "How did they do it?" stuff (which Alice quite definitely is) there's an interview with 20,000 film-makers Iain Forsyth and Jane Pollard at - guess what! - Filmmaker.

The film itself ends with a beautiful shot taken at night as Nick walks through a colonade onto the beach, gradually zooming out until we realise it was taken from the sea! Update: Alice is delighted she now has a better rendition of it. You can view the whole of that sequence on YouTube. [Note: this is a better copy than the one we originally linked.]

Alice was so inspired by Cave's final words in the film, that she's insisting on quoting them.

The song is heroic, because the song confronts death. The song is immortal and bravely stares down our own extinction. The song emerges from the spirit world with a true message. One day, I will tell you how to slay the dragon.

All of our days are numbered: we cannot afford to be idle. To act on a bad idea is better than to not act at all, because the worth of the idea never becomes apparent til you do it. Sometimes this idea can be the smallest thing in the world, a little flame that you hunch over and cup with your hand and pray will not be extinguished by all the storm that howls about. If you can hold onto that flame, great things can be constructed around it: they are massive, and powerful, and world-changing - all held up by the tiniest of ideas....

In the end, I am not interested in that which I fully understand. The words I’ve written over the years are just a veneer. There are truths that lie beneath the surface of the words. Truths that rise up without warning like the humps of a sea monster – and then disappear. What performance and song is to me is finding a way to tempt that monster to the surface. To create a space where the creature can break through what is real and what is known to us. This shimmering space, where imagination and reality intercept. This is where all love and tears and joy exist. This is the place. This is where we live.

Aaaah. Yes.

Another event ... 

I finally managed to persuade Alice to help me write up another outing we had recently. As you know, she's been "underground" for simply ages, but I think we can say she's making her way up to the everyday world again, although she hastens to add it's very gradually indeed. She's up a bit (for a little longer?) then down again (but not quite so far?) by fits and starts. If you've been there yourself, you'll know what we mean.

The picture of me here is a kind of clue to what, or who, we've seen. Do you get it? I had to make do with one of Alice's gloves to pose in, as although she managed my stripey scarf, I imagine mittens my size are a bit beyond her capabilites with knitting needles. Still, she took the photo anyway, and got so carried away Googling links and looking for images she almost forgot she needed some lunch.
We went to the cinema. First time since February (oops) March, will you believe! She was determined to see 20,000 Days on Earth which is a fictional (very much so, see this article) psudo-documentary, purportedly (what a simply splendid word) recounting a day in the life of Nick Cave. Got the clue now? Alice really likes his music, and the film isn't a three hour epic like some. [Don't forget to click on images to see them larger.]

Yes, we enjoyed it, despite the fact that afterwards Alice felt totally exhausted and even a bit dizzy. That's not because of the content, it was just the effect of the assault on the auditory and visual senses that any film launches at its audience. When your nervous system has become over sensitive like hers has recently, movies are not the best experience to go for too soon!

We first came accross Nick Cave when a Five Rhythms teacher played his magnificent Red Right Hand for some energetic Staccato. Listen on YouTube here if you don't know it: we're not quite sure how we feel about the accompanying visuals, however. Alice has been something of a fan ever since.

IMDB lists some of Nick Cave's Trade Marks as "Unique musical style which mixes Punk Rock, Blues and classical piano based ballads" and "Soaring sorrowful musical scores". Quite. There's a long compliation on Alice's iPod, mostly from The Best of  Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds CD, plus a few others.

When she'd recovered at home from the screen onslaught, she played them over and even sort-of danced in the kitchen. That was indeed a good little slice of Up.

20,000 Days is certainly a very weird film. Mark Kermode was rather iffy, but still gave it four stars. Check out other reviews at Rotten Tomatoes. Some of it was hilarious, some very self-obsessed:  yet the most interesting part, in our view, was how he worked so tirelessly on his songs, nurturing his creativity, then both composing and recording.

We see him with his long-time collaborater, Warren Ellis, trying out melodies and ingenious backing sounds in the studio.

Now that's a truely amazing beard that Ellis sports.

As well as recordings and live gigs, the two have a number of excellent and usually very atmospheric film scores to their credit. For some of our favourite films, too: The Proposition, for example: a gritty Australian "Western" starring Ray Winstone, for which Cave also wrote the screenplay. It got four stars from The Guardian.

Although she won't rush to go to the cinema again that soon - except perhaps to Mike Leigh's forthcoming Mr Turner with Timothy Spall and breath-taking cinematography - Alice thought she'd try watching TV again.

Downton Abbey is both easy on the intellect, not too taxing on the senses (there are breaks for ads, or the loo, or a cup of tea, after all) it's superbly acted, and altogether harmlessly delightful as only the best in costume drama can be.

But Red Right Hand stirred memories of rather different fare: it's the theme tune for Peaky Blinders now back on the BBC for its second season.

Aaah, that dishy Cillian Murphy, playing the head of a Birmingham mafia-style family between the wars.

The peaks are on the caps, by the way, and they're blinders beause there are razor blades hidden therein.

It's nasty and violent in places, but also very emotionally engaging, and so brilliantly acted and filmed that it's well worth our time.

And it has some fabulous period cars!

Now we'll just have to wait til the next series, I suppose...

Still here. . .  
and 
A Song of Ice and Fire

We are still here, despite indications to the contrary. Alice has been what she's called "Underground". That's really a euphemism, as you've probably worked out. Now there's a lovely word, isn't it? It even means "sounds nice". Humpty would have paid that one extra, I'm sure. I digress, but you must be used to that by now. In fact she's been overwhelmed by a sea of problems - personal, psychological, and practical - especially plumbing. All of which are "p" words, you'll notice. Odd, isn't it?

And we may as well add political, too. The Scottish Independence Referendum looms ever closer, and Alice has gone from Yes to No, to Yes again, and right now she's just Perplexed - another "p" to add to the mix. She's been anti-nuclear since forever, so it's hard for her to weigh that against all the confusion there seems to be over the financial implications. Sigh. But that's human politics for you. I just think we should all be nice to each-other, but she says I'm being simplistic.

I'm worried that she's been playing an awful lot of Mahjong Titans on her computer, far more than can be good for her. I think she's addicted, but she says it calms her down. Or is it a kind of freezing-over, I ask. It's a Solitaire game of matching, using these Chinese tiles: 144 of them, rather than the mere 52 of a standard card pack. I admit they are very pretty indeed, and the different lay-outs are named after animals. But no Monkey, however, so I just find it boring.  [Click on the images to see a bit bigger...]

The Computer plays a mean game of chess as well, but Alice is not able to think far enough ahead to do anything more than win by chance now and then at the very easiest level. She's always admitted her block, and has even consented to type that bit of information here! And that's despite all the chess characters like the White Knight in her namesake's adventures Through the Looking Glass.

In the book, she pulled him out when he got stuck, but I'm not big enough to do that for her now. She thanks me for  encouraging her to write this: and says it is a kind of pulling out. Fingers crossed, folks.

One of our followers (at least) has been concerned about this lack of blogging. But since we have recently been to an event worth mentioning, I've persuaded her to write a little about it. A friend got Alice a ticket to accompany her to hear George R R Martin at the Edinburgh Book Festival, given as how she loves his Song of Ice and Fire books, and has box sets of all the HBO TV Game of Thrones series. [Beware spoilers on any site about either of these. You have been warned!] As he wrote himself, "A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies... The man who never reads lives only one." A Guardian report includes some quotes from the talk.

We did enjoy seeing him live. He talked about his literary forebears, both fantasy and horror, including Tolkien of course. Less obviously (to us at least) he admired Marvel Comics' Stan Lee who created the Fantastic Four superheroes.

His own characters, though, are never 100% villains, or completely good. That's one of the things Alice likes so much about his writing: they are all well rounded, they face moral dilemmas, and are changeable.

GRRM's reality influences included standing on Hadrian's Wall; the Wars of the Roses; plus some of the bloody events in Scottish history, such as the Glencoe Massacre and the Black Dinner  [scroll down this link]. If you don't know what episodes in the books are herein referred to - you have that pleasure still to come.

He started writing what he thought was a trilogy in the 1990's, and it's still unfinished, with five so-called "books" published - actually seven thick wedges of print. No-one at this event asked when he was going to finish it. Just as well, as there's a joke (we hope) online somewhere that whenever he gets asked that, he kills off another of our favourite characters! Alice asked him whether, when he began, he knew how he would end the epic and who would die en route. And had he changed his mind about any of that? The answer was Yes to the first, No the second.

He was amazed at first at all the fan websites with their many speculations and arguments about some deliberate mysteries in the plot, and the unknown ending. Only a few of the guesses were right. No-one in the audience (or the author himself) gave anything away or even suggested any of the answers. Good! In fact, even though he likes to surprise his readers, he won't alter his planned to-be-revealed solutions: he's planted clues saying "the butler did it", so he can't now turn round and say "it was the chambermaid". Our lips are sealed.

His favourite characters are probably Tyrion and Arya: they're Alice's too. Here's an early (so almost no spoilers) introduction to Tyrion on YouTube, and a similar one for the feisty wee lassie.

The photo is of Maisie Williams as Arya with her sword, named Needle. Why? Because she hated sewing but loved having very own weapon.

Sorry...

It seems Alice's trip "Underground", mentioned in our previous post below has turned into something a little longer-lasting, more akin to Persephone's sojourn in Pluto's murky underworld.

The encompassing gloom and the length of it, however, is just about where any similarity ends, as she hasn't eaten a pomegranate, and there's no sign (yet, I keep telling her) of rescue by a Demeter figure (perhaps she's within, I've tried hinting). She complains the season's not strictly correct, either, quoting April is the cruelest month at me. She even gave up on finding a good link to this, so you'll have to search one out yourself if you don't know (hint: it's from T S Eliot). Alice also insists a blog is not the place for diagnosis or prognosis.

Still, I did manage to get her to find a nice image for you lot out there. Of course, she protested she doesn't feel anything like as darkly romantic as Rossetti's painting, and something by Tracey Emin would have been far more appropriate. Sigh.

Just be patient, please.

Mind about the gap?
This is just by way of letting you know, in case you were worried, that we haven't totally given up on our blog: but Alice is in a bit of a psychological Underground just now. 

No, we don't mean the Lewis Carroll one. Or didn't you know that the original title of Dodgson's manuscript was actually Alice's Adventures under Ground? 

You can see his own charming illustrations and careful handwriting at this link to Lenny's wonderful Alice site.

Mind you, our Alice does say she feels (just sometimes) as though she's in a perplexing dream like that and wishes she could wake up.

Which she will, of course, in her own good time. I reckon that just bothering to write this brief apology is a propitious sign of her eventual emergence.

Talking of emergence, here's a cheery Spring-like photo of yours truly with our successfully bloomimg and sweetly smelling indoor hyacinth, plus some daffs from the supermarket, and a sweet little rose-bud we found on the stair. The window boxes are still suffering from the bitter cold, however.

Meanwhile we're secretly hoping you do "Mind the gap" without us.

But is it Art? 

We're so far behind that this is somewhat out of date, but we wanted to fill the gap.

Our afore mentioned visitor was an old (re-discovered) university friend of Alice's, who brought us these super goodies, including some lovely blooming iris. We got through the chocolates pretty fast, but the whiskey lasted just a bit longer.

We met her at the station, and went for a refreshing cup of tea in the Fruitmarket Gallery Cafe, round the corner.

We had a quick look at this exhibition. Louise Bourgeois is (or was, she died in 2010) a prolific, unusual and apparently very influential artist.

We saw some gigantic works on paper, made towards the end of her life: a mixture of writing, drawing and printmaking. The leaflet called them "both haunted and haunting". They were full of bizarre biological images, and statements like I distance my self from myself.

Personally I found them lurid and nightmarish, and not a lot of fun at all. Alice didn't say much, but did mutter she preferred Tracey Emin for that sort of personal stuff - at least she has a sense of humour.

Oh well, it certainly takes all sorts, especially in Art.  Of which there was more the next day.

We took a walk along part of the Water of Leith.

[Click on the images to see larger.]

Pretty berries aren't they?

Then we climbed the back steps up to Gallery of Modern Art. And there were snowdrops out here too! I do love being in Nature.

In the garden was our old friend Henry Moore's Reclining Figure,Two Piece. 

It used to live in the Botanic Gardens, and Alice is often reminiscing how her sons used to climb around it and in it when they were small.

We went to see, wait for it - yes, more of Louise Bourgeois.



But as you can tell from the poster, this was very different indeed. There were lots of intriguing objects made from varying materials. I particulary liked her Couple 1 featured here, despite them having no heads. But I wasn't allowed to climb and swing on it. Boo, hoo.

Check out the Gallery's website on the exhibition, and look at the links to the video and so on.

After a delicious salad in the cafe, we managed to get seats on the little Gallery bus into town, and were treated to an unofficial, but most entertaining guide by the driver.

Alice's friend wanted us to go up Arthur's Seat, but  it was too far for the time of day (not to mention our legs) and is actually a much higher peak than it looks.

We made do with Calton Hill instead.

There are great views of the city, as well as over the Forth on the other side.

Up there a surprise awaited us.

Collective, a contemporary art organisation, is due to open in the old City Observatory on the hill later this year, but meanwhile is putting on events in a portacabin.

The three of us got to be the total audience for a strange theatre piece called Anti-VWAP. There was a pallet of bottles of water, with an actor doing physical exercises, inviting us to join in, and talking about some strange financial scheme I didn't understand at all.

If you want to be further puzzled, there's a review in this is tomorrow.

Sometime after our visitor departed, Alice and I went back to the Fruitmarket Gallery to examine Louise Borgeois' 220 Insomnia Drawings, created during an eight month period of insomnia over the winter of 1994-95, when she was struggling with deep anxieties.

Well, need I say any more? She certainly has our sympathy, but some things are not meant for public display.

The book I'm sitting on, however, had a good image of one of her many giant spider sculptures, an example of  which I really loved in the other exhibition - you could walk right under it. She identified the positive aspects of spiders with her mother, a weaver.

I will embarrass Alice by insisting that we note she had her birthday during our break from blogging.

She didn't really celebrate, as she was rather "in the doldrums" at the time. You look it up, this once.

I won't go so far as to mention the exact date, or her venerable age, but I will reveal that she is an Aquarian and seems to fit the bill.