Diary of Lisa Taylor, reluctantly 42 (and a half)

Or.. 'f.ck me I'm forty.. two.. and a half', though can look 38 on a - not so deluded - good day. Or 'How to reconcile a well experienced mind trapped in a still - but for how long? – youthful body.' Don't have the 30somethings angst/problems, neither have the resigned (?) ageing baby-boomers in safe family territory outlook yet. Here's how I cope, one day all sexy women will get old... but never invisible. © Lisa Taylor 2005/6/7/8/9. Jeez.. so much for the 42 and-a-half delusion

Thursday, February 25, 2010

24 February - Artists & Architects & Guides

These late nights at galleries are great though arriving before 6pm at the Tate Modern only to find out they close for a while till they reopen at 6.30pm is a shock in the cold wind. Repair nearby to wait for R. who amongst other things tells me of her mate who was organising yet again a major event (am not talking Baftas but similar) and has decided this is her last one. The stress has got to her, being a producer is no fun, there comes a point when hearing the same demands, having to pacify the same egos and battle till last minute (presenter with unsigned contract 24 hours before show anyone?) is no longer a pleasant adrenaline fuelling 'I did this' sort of feeling but just sheer hell. We sit there thinking, we’d never do a job like that (again and not that we ever did it to that level but we 'get it'). I guess HT is over 45 and has stuck it so long due to being main breadwinner at home. That’s another one of those moments where not having kids to worry about turns out to be a massive advantage. You don't have to do it for them. This is good news for another friend of mine who has been wanting to bite that show's cherry for a few years but found her path blocked by the incumbent so there you go. I love it when I go out and hear of something that benefits someone else I know. My gossip rules!

We do van Doonesburg (heh? still can't spell it right) and play that game where you don't know which one is his, which one is Mondrian's but you instantly know the better of the two and, no surprise, it's the Mondrian. It just is. So maybe there's the lesson, the best one wins. Should really have read reviews before not after an exhib., good old Brian Sewelld explained it quite well when I finally read his review a few days after. Had saved the one about Arshile Gorky too but we simply didn't have the energy for him on same night. I must go back. What a tragic life he had, no wonder his paintings are so... sad on the whole.

Then R takes me walking around the City as she's my budding tour guide, and shwos me the glass column under Millenium bridge, the Millenium Measure. Have walked past it many times and all I ever thought was nothing really, I didn't take any notice, seemed a tall sort of cigarette butts type container but turns out to have all this wonderul info inscribed on the sides. The R tells me more stuff about just this small little corner of the City. I tell her she's turning into a trainspotter. She says couple of guys in her class are, the ones who as other hobby know everyting about helicopters for example - there's a guy there who likes her. She's not interested but proof that at 58 it can still happen. And she won't get Alzheimer at this rate as she's still packing info into her mind. Go girl.

The other nice news re. a friend is that J. had to borrow a tie (C. at Burberry sent him a care package /bike) and go buy a shirt to wear at fabulous event where he was photographed towering next to I.M. Pei!!! who's like, 92 and it was for a celebration of his life/work - J. did some composite film to sum up the architect's projects built and some remained on paper only. How inspiring. The amount of people I've told and they were blank on who I.M. Pei is , and when I said you know, only remaining living one together with Oscar Niedermeyer and they were blank again and I said to Toph 'why' and he said 'darling only you know everything' . And well, I do. There.


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