‘A way of getting round the 700 word limit’. Later in the pub, although before my late night sawing, we had drinks. I made things up about genetics and made Rosalind cross for fun. Then as I slipped into my usual two pint stupor I thought I heard talk of Core gallery politics, factions and schisms, and the need for chaperones. Next Andrew spoke of darts, Lacan, Freud, Jung, Keira Knightley and being unlucky in love. I can’t help thinking that not talking about Lacan, Freud and Jung (or darts) might make one luckier, though to be fair I am not living in London and until now would not consider myself particularly lucky in that realm either. The men outside the pub had obviously been discussing similar things. As we left one called out: “Are you French?” It wasn’t a threat, at least not to me. Rather a sort of mating call designed to make women giggle and go weak. It didn’t work. This post has been delayed due to my forgetting t