I’ve been away for a while and trying to avoid crashing back to everyday life with a bump, I took a more meandering route to the studio only to see one of my favourite junk shops gutted with the shutters down. Run by a couple of slightly camp geezer-types with bifocals on elegant chains and pyramids of dog-ends in the ashtray, they had a tattered but extensive dictionary of artists and if someone’s name was in it, prices would soar.
Mostly I treated it as a mini-museum, I’d had a handful of interesting things over the years (like this gloomy Moya Cozens print) but to think of the curios I’d earmarked selling at everything-must-go prices in my absence just makes me shudder. Still, as one-door closes another opens, quite literally; there’s a lovely new bike shop a few doors down.
Mostly I treated it as a mini-museum, I’d had a handful of interesting things over the years (like this gloomy Moya Cozens print) but to think of the curios I’d earmarked selling at everything-must-go prices in my absence just makes me shudder. Still, as one-door closes another opens, quite literally; there’s a lovely new bike shop a few doors down. 
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