The Nightingale returns

Waking early, as the first light edges into the room above the dark curtains, I hear the magic notes of the nightingale. It is only late in March, but he has returned early this year. Last year I heard his arrival in April when we were in the first full lockdown with silent, empty skies and roads (see The Nightingale in Empty-Skies). I have opened the window to hear better, and lie for hour listening to his trills as he soars through an unrepeating repertoire. Perhaps his early arrival signals a long, warm summer to come. Finally, the boring pigeons begin to cut in and steal the peace with their multitudinous single strain of noise. 

Grayson Perry Alter Ego

My first portrait of Grayson Perry was in Acrylic on paper when from when he started his Art Club on Channel 4 last year (see Painting Grayson). We are now enjoying his new series, for which I have completed a more contemporary portrait of him in oils on canvas as his alter ego.  We live in a strange, confusing society where to take on certain styles or fashion ones hair in a forbidden way is now absolutely tabboo. If Grayson were to suddenly aspire to be a cowboy, that would be OK (white western men), but a Native American? Definitely out - cultural appropriation. A woman wishes to wear dreadlocks? Verboten. That is stealing Afro-American identity.  Don't dare to come to a fancydress party as an Arab person; that's out now. People moan so often and loudly if a white man dares to dress as another race of person of colour (I can't even say BAME now, that term was suddenly decreed wrong by the thought police) and you will bring down the wrath of the mighty media. Yet it's fine for Arab people to dress in European clothing, or Afro-American women to straighten their hair. It's fine for women to power dress in city suits and boots. Shall a man wear a skirt and hair ribbon and the fashion of a teenage chick? Fine - don't dare to criticise or question, or you'll be labelled an intolerent trans-hater. My point here is not to question Grayson, but to ask in what world is it now forbidden to dress as someone of another culture? It used to be a mark of admiration and respect for other peoples, but now this is where the intolerence lies. Once, men could dress as minstrels because we admired the people and that style of music; indeed, a popular BBC show was built round this theme. But now, one touch of the black grease paint and you're dead in the ground. That is not cultural respect; it is complete intolerence for other people. One day it will reverse, and we will be able to copy any race or culture because we admire it. 

Now I am working on a portrait of Ann, not in a contemporary style but a more classical interpretation. I look forward to completing it and presenting her with it. She is my fiercest critic, so I will try hard to make it worthy of her.

More moans from the front: my tooth socket is as painful as toothache, even though the tooth is now consigned to the bin. I am taking CoCodamol to ease it, supplemented by a large shot of brandy, but was so tired today I went back to bed twice. It was not helped by getting despairing messages from the company I work for demanding urgent replies, and saying they need to get hold of me, and why wasn't I responding to the stream of emails they sent? I don't like to admit the truth on these occasions, for although they haven't shown any overt age discrimination, I am conscious that it is the first thing they might blame if I don't come up to the mark. I simply replied that I had been away from the office (true), but would work on it straight away.