Tuesday found Buttoned up being taken for a walk, winding itself around various railings, starting at the Uni Health Centre, hanging out around the Library Cafe, viewing the flowers down to Mayors Walk, stopping at the cemetery, to dwell on the transience of existence.

Entwining the rails over looking the headstones, bliss it was in this spring day to be alive ....

Further into town, the maroon railings of a corner Georgian villa drew me to them, and made me wonder why this was converted for business use, and not kept as a dwelling place. 

The porch of the central entrance of the King Street Crescent called next, and I fitted myself to the white painted wrought iron tracery. Carrying on I was drawn to the bright blue of the Student Housing's rail and sunned myself thereupon.

Carrying on into the Central Lending Library, I curled around the new members chair's chrome frame-work, before wrapping myself around one of the balustrades overlooking the music section. On the way out I checked my reflection in the wraparound mirrors while hugging a banister.

'Grapeful' goes to ArtYarn

Finally finished my strip for ArtYarn, a 'Grapeful' sample which would not disgrace the fencing of any exhibition; added the note 

'Hail Mary, full of grape, the Bawd is with thee'

Compensation for missing the American print exhibition - by ONE DAY came in the form of coffee and some iced lemon cake (sigh).

Next on to photograph samples of shrug crochet in Lakeside Gallery, where some Silver 'lace trimmed handkerchiefs' can be seen. Maroon upholstery sets off eau-de-nil mohair (Pingouin vintage stash found hiding in a back room at Oxfam) very well. How were the exibits made - some 'lost wax' process, or where they actually cut with a mig welder - only the artists can tell me that.

Made it at last to , Lucy Stevens binaural sound piece at Nottingham Castle Museum & Art Gallery; a kind of fantasy guided walk around the grounds, that I still managed to scotch by following my own path (as usual), and doing it backwards. 

On entering the gallery I was distracted by Samplers - incredible the literacy expected of a (middle/upper class) 6 yr old of the 18th century.

The climaxof this art-exhausting - exhilarating day, Surface Gallery private view of Kate Walters, whose visceral watercolours bled from the page, and trickled down the back of the neck. Examining spirituality, corporality, mortality and the nature of female friendship the transient nature of existence .... definitely worth another look at these intimately-scaled personal versions of one womans stations of the cross.