Ivor’s Daily Gallivant Friday September 29, 2023: taking my paintings to October Books. Woke just before six and felt pleasantly rested. I decided to listen to Leonard Cohens ‘Lady Midnight’ as I wasn’t sure how the lyrics went. It’s a curious song which I don’t exactly understand, but nonetheless enjoy enormously. One of my English Teachers once remarked about a D.H.Lawrence story the mark of good literature is you can enjoy it without understanding it…. I pondered what I’d read of The Grapes of Wrath and how Steinbeck described ordinary people (men and women, old and young) with all their noisiness and messiness, dreams and fears. Their clothes, their language-they are like the people on the bus, and the high street. Facing challenges, getting on with things as well as they can. Books are like their writers- to read them is to share the observations and idiosyncrasies of their writers. In an interview J. B. Priestly once remarked- ‘I see more than most people’. I was 16 and a snot nosed illiterate, when I first encountered The Grapes of Wrath and it’s only now that the extent of my ignorance has become apparent. The book was one of the set pieces in C.S.E English. Which was the qualification for less gifted 16-year-olds. Our English teacher (according to a friend of mine was the Cox-on for Oxford in the boat race) He hardly spoke- I will never know why- was he shy or did regard teaching us as an indignity, or something that wasn’t important, or was he lazy. I found him intimidating and unapproachable. During English classes we took turns to read a paragraph at a time of the Grapes. Which for me was embarrassing. Or get on with reading or writing in silence. We had a weekly swimming lesson before English once a week. And the caretaker would routinely put too much chlorine in the water which hurt my eyes and I had difficulty focusing them during class. I listened to some more of the audio book whilst cleaning the bathroom. There was a description of playing the harmonica, guitar and violin. And a group of religious extremists looking on at a dance with distain. My friend Andy who wasn’t feeling great came but despite that drove me to October Books with the paintings to be exhibited. He drove via the motorway. A bought a packet of dates in October Books but wasn’t able to open them until I got home. The sun shone brightly as we returned from Portswood and I was well on putting on my exhibition. Although I hadn’t published it properly.

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