LDN

It's really winter here in London, even my Wisconsin blood isn't comfortable at sidewalk cafes anymore, despite a hat and scarf. While there are a few things London should take note on from Paris, the outside sidewalk heater ranks up there pretty high.

I seemed to have picked a pretty convenient hotel, since the nearest tube stop has three lines running through, making it very easy to get anywhere and I rarely even have to change lines. Today I rode the Circle line to Embankment and walked a few blocks to the National Gallery, at Trafalgar Square (for those of you following along at home in your London A to Z, and yes, you must pronounce it "zed"). I've been to the National Gallery a few other times, although not on my last two trips here, so it was definitely time to go again. Actually, I almost made it last time but I had walked all over the city and by the time I got there I was so darned tired that I simply sat on the steps, took a few shots of Nelson's Column, and left. So today I popped back in to visit some old friends; Jane, the Arnolfinis, Whistlejacket, to name a few. I have some of those prints at home, and do adore them, but they become so starkly disappointing when standing in front of the real thing. I can't explain what it is about certain paintings, but I even become one of those strange bench-sitting, painting-gazing people in front of The Execution of Lady Jane Grey...yes, again with the Tudor history obsession, I know. But I dare you to stand in front of the life-size painting, and not have your breath taken by the shimmer of her silk dress, not see her hands move uncertainly towards the block, not hear the rustle of her dress as she kneels in the hay or the weeping of her ladies in waiting. Then go visit Whistlejacket, the life-size portrait of the racehorse by George Stubbs, and try to figure out if it's fear or arrogance in his liquid brown eyes. And of course go to the Sainsburys wing to visit the Arnolfini marriage portrait, if only because you developed a weird obsession with it during a college art class. And along the way of this weird little tour of my favorite paintings, you may catch sight of some of your favorites, like Van Gogh's sunflowers, or some of Monet's Waterlilies, or Renoir's Umbrellas. Be sure to notice the painting of Lake Keitele, just looking at it will make you feel the chilly morning air.

Anyway, enough waxing artistic for you. After my visit at the National Gallery (yes, still only one hour long...) I had lunch at a wonderful Italian restaurant on the Strand (mussels! red wine!) and enjoyed a black taxi ride home through Kensington. I admit, I had been thinking of going to see Mary Poppins in Leicester Square this afternoon, but did you see how long the queue was for tickets at the TKTS booth?! And did you notice that it had just started icily raining?!