and suddenly the tube was a scary thing
I just bought my first piece of art. It’s called Candice and Susan, an amazing painter who showed at the first arthouseparty. I fell in love with the painting then, and have only just managed to scrape together the dosh I don’t have in order to buy it.
Here it is:
I picked it up from hers in Highbury, and carried it back to Brixton on the Victoria Line. And I think standing on the Tube with several hundred quid’s worth of incredibly carefully-made artwork on a busy Tube carriage has to be one of the scariest things I’ve done in a while. Am I just getting a bit middle class?
