And this inspired doggy art of a Mrs PigWoof lying bloody-gutted from a running over (with tennis ball pre-stomach and ready swallowed) on this side of the table, while on the other side there was a more psychedelic beast, multi-coloured and fizzing energy. We
Nostalgia kills.
Two things prompted me to write this post in appreciation of Louis Malle’s Lacombe, Lucien. The first was a mundane training exercise for a new teaching job. The other was a two page spread in Le Monde discussing Olivier Roy’s new book on jihadism, Le Djihad et la Mort.[1] Roy's book arrives at an opportune moment, with the Paris and Nice atrocities (among many others) still painfully recent, and the ongoing military campaign against Islamic State in the Middle East appearing in the news daily.
This last week or so has been an unusually poppy week (being more a classical hound by nature (of which more anon … that’s for another post)) but I wasn’t thinking to write about it until I stumbled across the Secret 7″ exhibition space at Somerset House. By chance it was the first day of…
A London Journal 