Welcome back, readers. Or perhaps it is you who should be welcoming me back.
You see, I’ve just returned from a bank-balance defying two week vacation in Amsterdam and Paris, where I gorged myself on wine, food, wine, culture, wine, art, wine and wine.
Without boring the ever-loving shit out of you with intricate details about the museums and sites I visited, or sharing my hideously overexposed holiday snaps, I’ll get straight to the bit where I run my mouth and complain about the worst part of all of those beautiful places:
People who take pictures of pictures.
I have to confess that I have intentionally mimicked the title of the awful television show ‘Da Vinci’s Demons’ here, although perhaps only to draw the distinction between that swill and the fascinating exhibit, ‘Da Vinci: The Genius’ currently taking place at The Amazing Place in Woodmead until the 22nd of June (with a special night event happening tonight for those who’ve booked in time).
First off, it taught me that it’s okay to have a title that sounds like something you were forced to write when you were twelve. Secondly, it taught me that art is does not have to be the often pretentious, overly self-aware, inaccessible and unreliable deluge of imagery and emoters that I’ve come to associate with the word. Art- and don’t let anyone under the age of 25 with a ridiculous haircut hear you repeat this- can be fun.