One's day out.

Sometimes small pockets of a previous world manage to exist alongside our own.

This old lady was dressed to the nines on the tube, heading for a social occasion in town.

With her black gloves, and her fur trim, and her Louis Vuitton hand bag. She was a stable bubble from a different age. Unpoppable.

And check out her ear rings. Bling madam, bling.

Ladies who cyberlunch

Anna Wintour on the Thames link train from Bedford !!! Well I never.

This Lady and her friend were discussing Facebook, and the whole Social network thing.

"It's great as far as it goes, but I find it all so static, you meet people and it's good and all, but when do you get to interact, and develop things further ?"

She waved her painted nails in emphasis.

"I argue with my work colleagues all the time, and we disagree about all sorts of things, but that moves our relationship on from just work, you know"

"Facebook you don't really get to interact with people. So what is the point ? "

The June edition coming along nicely then ?

( Disclaimer - any resemblance to real powerhouse fashion magazine editors is entirely coincidental, and big sunglasses are not, when I last looked, a trademarkable item )

International Womens' Day

After a salsa lesson that was more stressful and sweaty than syncopated we sat, dazed, and watched the Cuban International Womens' Day shindig.  Everyone piled into the Casa for dancing, drinking and lurid coloured cake.  A young woman ran around as a sort of vajazzled swan, and rum and coke got spilt with abandon. It was like a bit like a lock in at your local, if your local had bougainvillea growing from the ceiling, and couples dry humping each other as entertainment.

Favorite sketch from that day, two women sharing one chair.

Beauty is often right in front of you.

Ahhh !

Ha ! This woman was miles away ( how I like them --- err... my sketching subjects... not my women... oh no, hole... digging... deeper and deeper... shut up now... )

Not giving up on colour, but finding the time is proving hindering. Need to revise my working pattern.

twist to listen

Two women, on their lunch break, sitting and talking, or rather one talking and one following intently. I liked how she had sat sideways and was leaning in to follow every point.

Men never listen that focused, we are always too busy thinking what we are going to say next to trump the other person, to actually register what they are saying to us. Conversation, for women, is inclusive and empathic, for men it is information and status.

Am off on the road for the next few days, and not sure when the internet will rise up to meet me. So until then...