Tiny Shots of London

... the path least taken ...

Tonia reminded me that there is beauty in the smallest detail.

So I looked right outside of our door and began to take pictures on the way to the tube.

I began to see the bricks that make up fences, the green moss on mail boxes,  and the translucent dew on the leaves,

I slowed down to look at the street signs against fences, the trees in blossom, the orange berries hidden in the green leaves, and the white flowers on the tops of hedges.

... rain on the way home ...

I was on my way to the Lucien Freud: Portraits Exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery. (9 Febuary – 27 Ma6 2012).

Rebecca went straight to the point when we were looking at the Lucian Freud etchings on display in the Ondaatje Wing of the Main Hall.

“It is hard to know why a person would want to spend another £16 when there is so much in this gallery that I haven’t seen for free, yet.”

... orange berries on our hedge ...

I agreed with her, but have mulled the question over in my mind long enough to know that this will be the only chance to see 130 of his works, being brought from all over the world, and now all in the same place, some of them never exhibited before.

Freud loved the human face and the human figure.

I, too, love the human face and the human figure – the study of portraits is rewarding for me.

When I arrived at the gallery, the line-up to buy tickets snaked along the ticket counter and then up the stairs to the second gallery and along the banister there.

“No way am I going to spend my time standing in a line-up like that.”

But I thought better of that idea when I heard the line was moving quickly.

... grey moss on a red mailbox ...

I kept running my plan to go to the exhibit.

I got to the gallery at 10:30 am, the tickets for the next entrance were for 11:30 am and when I was buying my ticket the entrance time had changed to noon.

By 1:15 pm the tickets for timed entrance into the show were gone.

I love killing time in an art gallery.

The pamphlet that comes with the exhibition ticket is 42 pages long.

I sat in the audio-pick-up room and read the pamphlet – my hope was to miss some of that museum fatigue that comes with seeing a painting, looking down to read the guide, looking up to see the picture, looking down to read the text again.

I also ordered the audio recording that goes with the pictures for when my entrance began.

I like having the feeling that someone is whispering in my ear, just at the rate that I would like to have the information supplied to me.

... even the bark on the trees is beautiful ...

I noticed that the people giving out the equipment were keeping track of it by asking for a credit card.

But even more, I liked the idea that they were writing down the time that the unit went out and when it came back. I wonder what the stats would be on that.

How long does the average person want to listen to those machines, or maybe those stats would only measure long do they stay in the exhibit.

Arta