Iain
2 eyes.
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About thirty some years ago I worked* at the property of the artist, Barbara Tate (Wiki). Her website doesn't appear to be maintained.
She invited me to her studio - a loft conversion - to view her WIP. It was a painting of Medusa and it was to be displayed at the entrance to the annual exhibition of the Society of Women Artists at the Tate. As President of the Society, it was her role to escort the Princess Royal. There was a book published posthumously based upon her experiences working as a "maid" in London's Soho. I haven't read it.
*I will never forget. My boss dropped me off and disappeared, and I was left with blunt tools and little experience, at a three storey seventeeth century townhouse, in a very leafy, middle-class part of West London. I think I spent the best part of a morning at the koi pond. When we first went to view the property, to my horror, I was prompted to remove my shoes. I had enormous holes in the heels of my socks. And a hole where my big toe poked through.
I do not recount the above out of reverence for anyone's particular station in life, i might add. We all born mortal.
She invited me to her studio - a loft conversion - to view her WIP. It was a painting of Medusa and it was to be displayed at the entrance to the annual exhibition of the Society of Women Artists at the Tate. As President of the Society, it was her role to escort the Princess Royal. There was a book published posthumously based upon her experiences working as a "maid" in London's Soho. I haven't read it.
*I will never forget. My boss dropped me off and disappeared, and I was left with blunt tools and little experience, at a three storey seventeeth century townhouse, in a very leafy, middle-class part of West London. I think I spent the best part of a morning at the koi pond. When we first went to view the property, to my horror, I was prompted to remove my shoes. I had enormous holes in the heels of my socks. And a hole where my big toe poked through.
I do not recount the above out of reverence for anyone's particular station in life, i might add. We all born mortal.