This is me and Henry Moore. I’m the one holding the bottle. Mainly because this Henry has no hands. Poor soul.

It’s an exhibition at Kew Gardens. In… er… Kew. Which is not that far. But allowing for parking hassle and the North Circular Road, we normally take the train. Its easy. Relaxed. Reliable. Not subject to hold-ups, roadworks and traffic (fucking) wardens.

So we drove. I’ve just got the car back; it’s a sunny day, there’s nothing I want to do more than sit on the horrible, congested A406 with the top down, breathing in diesel fumes. Which is what we did. Mel said ‘Kew Gardens’, my mind went to ‘drive fast’. It just does that. Though it’s not a fast road. But there ya go. Or don’t go, very fast.

I don’t know who invented ‘Feng Shui’. But I never heard that word until 2003 when some tosser was trying to sell me… something and dropped the ‘F-S-bomb’. Ahhhhh, he probably said, but with this piece of furniture/garden gnome/toaster/whatever, it will enhance the feng shui of the space. And although I can’t remember the event specifically, I know I’d have been so wowed by this ‘new’ concept, that I’d have either dropped to my knees in a swoon, or head-butted the pretentious nob right where he stood. “How’s ya feng shui now, Tarquin?”, as he bled all over his white-pine, brushed varnish floor.

But the Japanese don’t have a monopoly over the concept. Just an obsession. The Japs have heaps of obsessions, some of them even legal. Although it originated in China!

And when you walk into Kew Gardens, you simply ‘get’ the whole ‘feng shui’ thing. It is everywhere. You start to amble and everywhere is so stunningly beautiful it produces a wonderful feeling of contentment and relaxation. Everything is ‘wild’ and ‘natural’ and yet was incredibly carefully placed, hundreds of years ago, to create calm and balance. What’s more, every single fucking leaf is gorgeous. Perfect. Shiny. Leafish. And there are quite a few there. Even the patches of stinging nettles look like they were created in a workshop by Monty Dom. And beside them, the most beautiful dock leaves, all healthy and un-nibbled and photo ready.

When you’re there, you’re not in any rush. Even if you were before you arrived. Ok, there’s a horrible queue to get in, with only 2 out of about 12 payment booths open. But we managed to jump that. On the grounds that I’m so impatient that I have to. And from then on all thoughts of having a tank to blow motorists out of the way, any lingering hatred for the judges who reckoned the Palestine Actionists were innocent after they destroyed a factory and hit a policewoman in the back with a sledge hammer, all the annoyance of Arsenal winning the league; it all just ‘goes away’ as you stroll along surrounded by nay-cha.

Happy Monday

A xxxx