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There were a few nice meals later in the month. Camila dropped by for a light lunch; in town for a Paul Simon concert. Another day Jesse, Maxi and Antonio came over to discuss the upcoming Ginsberg celebrations. I made a Poulet en gelée. The month ended with a pleasant evening at Simon and Ginette’s; Simon still in recovery from a fall in Paris months ago. As they say, young people fall over, we old folks ‘take a fall’.
I very much enjoyed the Whistler show at Tate. He was one of the first artists I responded to as a teenager – 15 years old. I hadn’t seen his work in some time and they were bigger than I remembered. The energy and power is still there. My friend Kipps and I admired his arrogance as we first explored art before we went up to art school.
The heatwave had not yet kicked in and London was very pleasant. After a visit to the eye clinic, I took a stroll near Little Venice. Beautiful this time of year. I am a member of the British Museum and live within easy walking distance, so I often take a short cut through on my way to the London Review Bookshop. One day there were fewer tourists than usual, so I had a look at the Parthenon Frieze. I have always enjoyed the carvings of cattle on it, particularly South Frieze 132-136 where a heifer raises its head in protest when the youth leading it turns. This panel is supposed to be the inspiration for ‘that heifer lowing at the skies’ in Ode on a Grecian Urn by John Keats.
June 14 was haircut day and Mina trimmed off a ring of hair. I was off to France with Marsha the next day. We stayed with Catherine and Steve in Sud Pigalle. I wanted to show Marsha some of the sights and at the Rodin Museum we encountered a wonderful example of the French education system: elementary students having love explained to them.
We tried a new restaurant just a few doors down the street from Catherine and Steve’s place and the food was superb. We all spent a pleasant meal and evening people-watching, that great Parisian sport.
There was more food down in Catllar, in the Pyrenees where they had a moules festival (muscles) on June 20th. Marsha and I spent several weeks working on her memoir of Australian Oz, UK Oz and the founding of Spare Rib magazine. We got a huge amount done. It was very hot so we rarely went out. Just kept the shutters closed.
Back on Paris, Steve’s photographer friend Michele Corleoni (yes, it’s his real name) wanted to take some pictures of me for his Beat Generation project so I tried to look old and wise.
