Wednesday, 7 April 2010

Vapid Thoughts, Vacuous Opinions

Why do people write diaries? I suppose I write mine because I don't write anything else.

I enjoy reading other people's diaries (so don't invite me round your house) and have just finished Volume 4 of the Diaries of Donald Friend, an Australian artist who spent years living in exotic places, painting things, collecting ancient indigenous works of art, drinking too much and grumbling a lot. I didn't know anything about him really before I started reading but discovered that not only did he have a great turn of phrase (very irritating since he was already overblessed with talent in other directions) but also knew loads of entertainingly crazy OTT personalities, not least of which was himself. I found myself hooked.

Anyway, this is the bookplate to his last ever diary (he died before he filled in the final date). Aside from the nude exotic islander watching him at work, I just love the bald honesty of the words round the portrait. Doubly ironic because so many people did end up reading and enjoying them, hwoever vapid or vacuous they might be.

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