Escaping the Rain

Well, May is continuing to enjoy pretending it's January or February, and many a bank-holiday-Monday plan was dashed due to poor weather. I sought refuge in the warm galleries of Tate Britain, and depending on which gallery I was in, it felt like all of London had the same rainy-day backup plan. I barely managed a glimpse of the new How We Are: Photographing Britain exhibit, due to the crushing crowds, but saw enough to know that Bob and I have to go back to linger over the fascinating range of photos. Moving away from the crowds, I thoroughly enjoyed the Prunella Clough exhibit; the exhibition introduction describes her as critically lauded, but basically unknown to the general public, a condition that was mimicked by the gallery space in which I happened to be the only person during my visit. After wandering through the twentieth-century galleries (as with the National Gallery, there is still so much in Tate Britain's collection that I've not yet seen), I decided to brave the rain again. On my way back to the tube, I noticed this sad sight of forgotten, soggy laundry getting heavier by the minute in the cold, rainy day, which made me walk even faster toward the welcome warmth of the tube.