That is going to be my strap-line should I ever decide to advertise for Mr Darcy. Not only is it pithy it also has the benefit of being a conclusion arrived at by rigourous (I presume) scientific testing.
Yes, I went over to the Maudsley again today for more guinea-piggery for Dr Bell and his hypnotism research. Today was great fun, a bit like an extended puzzle page from the paper. I have no idea what it’s got to do with hypnotism but apparently it was to test frontal lobe function. And I’ve got a pretty whizzy pair, it would seem.
I like this research business. Not only is it entertaining and gets me out of the house, it also tells me I’m very. Very suggestible. Very frontal lobal. But the pleasure from veryness is bizarre. I don’t want to be very. I want to be normal, average, in the middle, cozy, surrounded. I used to aspire to very as a solace, a justification. Further work required.
This morning the misty light was not sufficiently bright to be pearlescent. It was more moonstoneish. “Look up!” said Secondspawn on the way to school, pointing to the black silhouette of jagged branches against a grey sky. “It looks like we’re in a black and white film”. Colour was, indeed, mostly absent. But there was enough of it about for these pictures to work better without the colour entirely drained from them, I think.
Is it not amazing, the physical property of water when a liquid?
On large things the drips are large. On small they are small.
The mist was directional – the hairs on that stem were moist to the south, dry to the north.
I loved the way this web was slung around that hip. And I’ve always longed to take a decent picture of the moss that grows out of wall-mortar. This tiny clump was particularly bejewelled.
And finally, as they say on the news, what the hell is this? The outline of a glove, certainly, but how did it get on the top of a bus shelter in such a way? The last signs of a disintegrated fabric having rotted away over a period of years? Or some prank, perhaps, by a student at the art college outside which it is situated. Puzzling and rather lovely.
Very little knitting done though.