Yesterday I went to see an exhibition of work by my favourite artist. He’s an Italian sculptor who lived 600 years ago and his name is Donatello. Like the turtle. Although art historians aren’t supposed to say this sort of thing, I think he was the greatest artist who ever lived, in any medium, any …
On Saturday, I went to visit my friend Julian at his allotment. It’s an unpromising scrap of South London tucked in behind a pub; a chaotic patchwork of plots nestling alongside the waterworks in the shadow of the prison. We sat for a couple of hours by Julian’s shed, hemmed in by peonies and ranunculus, …
Yesterday, my holiday began. I didn’t get up early. I didn’t ride my bike to Victoria. I didn’t catch the bus to Oxford. I lay in bed till 8 o’clock. I had coffee. I watered the pots in the garden, ate some sultana bran, sat at the kitchen table and all was well. And then …
Anyone who watched the opening ceremony of the Olympics on Friday saw something extraordinary: thousands of the world's greatest athletes, after four years of training and self-denial, finally in the moment when they get to compete and exercise the skill and prowess that stems from an absolute commitment of time, energy and effort. Now, in …