I spent my lunch money at Oxfam again today. I'd cunningly filled up with sandwiches at a meeting beforehand though. The book is a catalogue for a Patrick Caulfield exhibition back in 1981. Caulfield is an artist I probably hated when I was younger but now I think he's just great, though probably not for the same reason(s) he thought he was. His pictures, at least the ones in this book, recall a culture that seems dead now; when we were enjoying consumerism but it hadn't become absolutely rampant. When they were painted perhaps they were intended to comment on the sterility and banality of the times. Now, maybe because we have our own, more up to date, versions of sterility and banality I can only see the charm. And they're all so precise, something that seems to soothe me. And maybe I'm less of a people person than I think but I also find the lack of human figures in the pictures cool.In the evening I went to vote and then immediately afterwards did the recycling. So much worthiness in such a short space of time. Still, a long weekend to recover. In keeping with the pop art vein (though I've just read Caulfield disassociated himself from the style), have I ever said how much I love the Who?
The Who: Heatwave
