In the wee
small hours, the funfair on Clapham Common stands in darkness, a broken
silhouette against the trees and the city’s orange night sky … except for one
small ride, a childrens’ roundabout at the edge of the compound, where an
engineer is working alone and is just switching on the pastel coloured lights,
pale blue, pale pink, pale lilac, pale green … “girly gorgeous”, like corals and
anemones in a sea of shadows.
Coming up the
stairs from a basement lunch at the back of Itsu in Piccadilly, I glance along
the shiny floor towards the wide windows and the sunlit street.
For a second the world seems black and white. And for a second the silhouetted girl between
me and the door might be a lovely lovely girl I knew thirty years ago.
In the
Wellcome Foundation’s States Of Mind
exhibition they have a line of framed drawings by the Spaniard, Santiago Ramon
y Cajal. These are on scraps of paper
and card, painstakingly rendered in pen and ink to depict forms and structures
for which there were no previous conventions or stereotypes to build on, and
which demanded a kind or truthfulness, sensitivity and delicacy, that only the most dedicated artists achieve.