Art

Story 1
This is not two images cobbled together (unless, perhaps, it is, in an arty sort of way); it is the entrance to Oxford's modern art gallery. On the left is a big screen onto which has been projected, for the last several weeks, a looped video of a digger 'making marks' in the grass while a recording plays the sound of the digger. I was ever so pleased that while I stood taking photos a woman in yellow and green walked past.

Story 2
Today a young, female efl approached me in the street. I smiled and she asked nervously whether she could ask some questions. Yes, I said, in my nice, hospitable, teacherly sort of way (I was one, once). She could barely read the questions on her paper, and certainly had difficulty with my simple answers. But with a lot of slow explaining and spelling and with the occasional use of my French (I lived there once) we crawled towards to the bottom of the sheet. Pen-pen-ultimate question was 'How old are you?' Now I happen not to mind that question at all, but I felt there was a slight cultural problem here, so explained that not everyone would like being asked. Penultimate question asked me to sign her piece of paper (to prove she hadn't made up the answers) and she didn't dare ask the final one, which was whether she could take my photo. So I told her she could swap my photo for hers. By this time a swarm was surrounding us, so I have now bagged another picture of efls, this time in giggle mode.