Retro-blogging or the art of catching up with yourself

A couple of weeks ago I read about an intriguing exhibition I’d like to go to at the William Morris Gallery in Walthamstow. It features a black US artist, Kehinde Wiley.

You may have seen photos of his Barack Obama portrait. Or you may have had the unexpected delight of seeing Wiley’s gloriously detailed and strikingly colourful portrait of himself standing in for Napoleon in a famous painting of him leading his men over the Alps. Housed in Napoleon’s wife’s home, Chateau de Malmaison, outside Paris, it’s a fantastic reimagining of the painting of the French emperor in which the original artist, Jacques-Louis David meets Wiley. I meant to blog about it before, and I haven’t, though of course I posted about it on Facebook and told a few friends about it.

Kehinde Wiley's riff on Jacques-Louis David's Napoleon portrait

Anyway, on learning of the Walthamstow exhibition, Wiley’s first dedicated show in the UK, I got all excited. There’s links to William Morris and the Arts and Crafts movement, of course. Having recently bought a house built in a period heavily influenced by Morris, there’s plenty to pique my interior design interest.

Then there’s the link with that incredible book The YellowWallpaper (read many years ago when I was first at uni), about a woman trapped in a room and all but live-blogging her mental breakdown. Kehinde Wiley cites this as a major theme for his Walthamstow show.

And then there’s the not unimportant matter of what topic I intend to research for my MA on Literary London. And my admiration for Sarah Waters, whose last novel but one, The Little Stranger, was a mock gothic affair in which what’s hidden behind the wall coverings was a major plot point.

So don’t be surprised when I start retro-blogging – or latergramm-ing – some of these things as they slot into place and take on new significances. The road trip to Paris that ended up being about that day at Malmaison as much as anything, has its own tales to tell, for starters. And surely tales need telling.

Flab Fight February

33 inches! How did it get that my previously trim waist now puts me in the size 16 dress category? Well, I’ve a few answers to that based on my mid-January procrastinations and self appraisal. The only thing now is to do something about it. A little less Bridget Jones diarising and a lot more action, methinks. 

My father in law (retired) uses the mantra "I’m lapping everyone on the couch" when denigrating his own weekly gym efforts and he makes a good point. I tested the waters against last week, setting to with an assault on the 40ft long wall of ivy that came with our house purchase. 

Also feeling pretty good about a tentative gym session mid-week. The gym equipment at Lewisham’s Glass Mill leisure centre has finally been upgraded and they’ve kept the LifeFitness interactive trails based in some beautiful locations that I love. 

Since it popped up again on my FB timeline recently – 11 years ago since we were there; too long! – I started off with a cross training session in Natural Bridges National Park and Utah’s glorious Kachina Bridge. Now I’ve broken my gym absence, it’s time to become a regular again. 

It’s Saturday and a late start after a very busy but productive few days: MA stuff, making proper efforts at getting some more freelance writing, sorting out and posting details of the Brockley Max fundraising events I’m helping set up.

Inspired by the herculean efforts of Sofia Kenin coming from behind to take the Australian Grand Slam, plus the incredible Devon trio who have just rowed across the Atlantic (https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-51103423), I hauled myself down to the gym and plugged in. The new LifeFitness suggested my Apple Watch would work with it, but 15 minutes in I realised that the Nag-a-tron’s screen said otherwise. Still, I trundled around the Kachina Bridge area again, mentally waving hello to the benevolent-looking gentleman on the video trail who resembles my aunt’s late dad. 

Kachina Bridge in Utah Natural Bridges Park

The boyfriend of the young woman next to me dropped off a coke and nipped out for a smoke before returning with pasties and other incentivising treats. Turning up is half the battle, I reminded myself. 

Satisfied I’d gone twice round the trail, marginally increasing resistance and speed the second time, I logged off the crosstrainer, only to be greeted by Lucy wanting a loo break. I was tasked with baby-sitting her running machine. Ended up doing a couple of minutes of fast walking/light jogging with an incline all the way. Ha! I’ll regret it later but at least I took the initiative. 

The challenge now is to keep it all up. After a sugar crash and jitters yesterday (eating sweets on the drive back from Cambridge was foolhardy), it’s clear as can be that I’ve got to cut back on the sweet stuff. Not much point in exercising if I’m then going to snack. 

Also, noticing it’s the first of the month, I might as well make this ‘a thing’ so let’s hashtag it #flabfightfebruary and see if I can’t lose a couple of those niggling 33 inches.