Danger
5 June

I sense a sort of danger for me.

Work has eased itself somewhat. I may not have got the Liverpool City Council job but I'm not dismayed by that. I have a sense that what I am being given is time to sort myself out. And therein lies the danger. This will be a totally different way of doing things for me.

My past patterns have been far more to do with letting things drift until either I drop out or have to jump to safety - as I was writing about recently. But, if things are OK, then the spur to action is gone. I really need to be very careful that i don't allow this opportunity to pass me by.

I took Friday as a day's Time Off In Lieu and Ross and I went to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park which is over by Wakefield. We have a very good day of it although I would tackle it differently the next time.

The Website for the Park, as well as not having a map as to how to get there, makes no mention of the fact that they offer powered wheelchairs for people with impaired mobility. This would have made for a much better day for me and a I sweltered and sweated, pushing Ross around in his wheelchair - it's country part - think rolling countryside. However, the art was great.

We went specifically because of an article I had read in The Friend, organ of Quaker journalism, about the sculptor, James Turrell. Coming from Quaker stock, his work uses light to evoke a spiritual response. Skyspace - Deer Shelter, pictured here, is like being in a Quaker meeting house.

Other works, in the underground galleries, used light to define spaces and to break open the bounds of physical space. I have not had such a strong and positive child-like reaction to new works of art since the Anish Kapoor exhibition back in 1998. Fabulous.

I've been catching up on some reading too. And, for a change this year, it's mostly been fiction.

However, A Perfect Obsession by Caro Fraser I could have done without. It's strange how some people respond so positively to something which I cannot abide. The cover claims that it is on a par with Joanna Trollope. I think that such a statement does the lady great discredit. I'd put the author's style somewhere below Jilly Cooper (not enough sheer chutzpah) and, perhaps, slightly higher than Jackie Collins.

Cross Bones by Kathy Reichs was a little better. For a moment, with possible conspiracy theories abounding and the discovery of some bones in a hillside tomb near Jerusalem which may be those of Jesus of Nazareth, we are getting dangerously close to Da Vinci Code territory. Although not one of the best in the series, it was OK.

A cut above both was The Shape of Snakes by Minette Walters. I've not read anything else by her but I shall certainly look out for her work now. It was a detective story of sorts with the main character trying to sort out what happened to cause the death of a black woman some twenty years previously. But, as with P D James, the emphasis is on the psychology rather than the detection. I lapped it up.

On Monday, Ross was off doing some video work with some other artists so I organised to meet up with my old workmate, Bill, for another lunchtime reminisce - we did this first in February. It was most pleasant. We dined in the Everyman Bistro so it really was like old times.

Before heading off up Mount Pleasant, I had taken myself off to the Walker Art Gallery to see the exhibition celebrating the bicentenary of the death of George Stubbs. He is best known for his portraits of horses like Molly Longlegs seen here.

The horse paintings are all a bit too alike for my taste. What was more interesting were the paintings of other animals and those of humans. I particularly liked this one entitled Reapers. But, to be honest, I couldn't summon up a lot of enthusiasm for the experience.

Four years ago, I went to an exhibition of works by George Romney and felt that I had improved my knowledge of a previously unknown artist. This exhibition I went into with quite a bit of knowledge and came away feeling that I liked the artist less.