Tutoring and more days out...

...which will catch up on me one day - some nasty shock is in store I shouldn't wonder. But I am being pessimistic and that won't do - it is a beautiful day and I've had another fine day here.

I rose early and went to the University for a meeting. The meeting having ended, I returned to the Library to commence nosing through old books (if I forget my Library card next week I shall go altogether ballistic!) I made a note of some old rubrical books and liturgical commentaries that I intend to buy in the fullness of Time - some of them I had never heard of (although I knew of the authors, many of them familiar, some I knew just the name). The Martinucci (Manuale Sacrarum Caerimoniarum) I especially want to get hold of if I can; also this wonderful little old book from about 1860 called ''Ancient Devotions for Holy Communion'' - nothing like this could possibly have been produced after Vatican II - it is a beautifully traditional pious work of Art.

In the late afternoon, I went to the National Gallery. It was rather too hot and crowded to spend the time I usually spend in there, but I find it difficult not to enjoy art galleries (provided they exhibit real Art) no matter how rapidly we tour the place, or we're jostled about a bit. Imagine, you're returning to the entrance having admired old Gothic Altar-pieces and 13th century Western religious art, your mood is thoughtful, elevated above the jostling, contemplative; then you look to one side and you see an amusing satirical portrait by Quinten Massys. The mood is completely shattered in a fit of laughter (not exactly appropriate to the National Gallery!) It can't possibly have been a real portrait of course (I am not putting it on my blog either). But Art is like that, it is emotive much like the Liturgy which is the Supreme Art Form. But there are of course varying degrees, concentric circles etc; not all Art is on the same plane. The feelings are different - not obviously different in the sense of laughter or sadness, but varying degrees of the same feeling that juxtapose the highest sentiments - something completely wonderful. I get lost in the sunset of Turner's sunset over Carthage; Constable's Salisbury Cathedral, all one can think of doing is running to the Cathedral to escape the lightning and thunder! Well, these are just broad strokes, and we all affected by Art in different ways.

I shall devote the better part of the weekend to translating bits of Virgil's Eclogues, which shall be frustrating probably but fun too! Real work begins next week though...