Friday July 30th

Day 100

We arrive late at the private view - I was soaking my sore toes in a washing-up bowl of hot salt water.

The speeches are over - the school hall is humming with artists. We meander along rows of framed paintings - two hundred and thirty six of them. Each one a person’s idea of crested waves, drooping poppies, a mountain in India, a woman holding a child in a hat, a street in the rain, snowy moorland. A kind of courage on display.

As we walk with our catalogues and free glass of wine, we are offered trays of mini sausage rolls, tinned pineapple and cheddar cheese chunks skewered on cocktail sticks, celery boats laden with cream cheese, egg mayonnaise sandwiches of crustless white bread. Made with generous hands.

Our friend who invited us whispers that one of her paintings only took her five seconds - it was her palette of bright swirled colours before she wiped it clean - full of movement and light. I liked it best of all.

When we let ourselves back into the evening house it smells of cake and blackcurrant jam. My art offerings of this day - the hundredth day of my blog.