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There’s art … and then there’s art

Being fifty-something, I know that art can be anything I want it to be. Sometimes, it’s adventurous …   My Girl and I clamber on to the 11.30am train, she with her Banksy-emblazoned tote brimming with opportunity (spray cans of paint, stencils); me with my tired old cross-the-body bag stuffed full of contingency (umbrella, rainjacket,… Continue reading There’s art … and then there’s art