Ramblings around Giambologna's Appennino at Pratolino

This is a short piece; perhaps musings on what might and should grow into a longer article. Sadly I just don't have the energy at the moment. It has been a long week of illness in which Twitter and trashy TV have been my entertainment. Despite the mental exhaustion, still, an unknown person got me thinking about an object which I hadn't thought about for a very long time. @History_Pics tweeted a picture of Giambologna's monumental garden sculpture 'Appennino'. As luck would have it, the book I required was on my windowsill, so I reached out to have a look and all my memories of Pratolino came flooding back.

One of the happiest periods of study in my life was the Italian Renaissance Gardens module at Birkbeck University around 2004. That year, by some co-incidence, an inspirational set of people had chosen this course, led by course tutors who lived, ate, breathed garden history of all types. I, on the other hand, had no idea about the subject but had dropped on to the course because it was something I had never heard of - I mean 'garden history'? My focus was Renaissance art and I baffled tutors with my determination to stay in the 16th century when so little of these original fragile and transitory works of art remain.

Marrakech: a sketch in colour

It's my first time to the dark continent. I am sure this has been said before but the light here engulfs you, driving all thoughts of the damp gray miasma of London away. London, where the streets insidiously swallow you whole, like being banished to the underworld. Persephone would never have eaten so much as a crumb if she had been dragged down Mile End Road. Having seen London at its worst recently, I've never been so pleased to leave, and re-enter the world of not-London.

Marrakesh. This crazy, erratic, bountiful place where skeletal horses share the roads with tractors, lorries and motorbikes; and hungry eyed people are thrown bananas from the charitable stall owners. The abundance of colour hits you like the smell of the fumes, but like the skin of the exotic edibles, you have to work hard to get at the jewel-like interior. The green mottled oranges disguise the sweetness within; behind graffitied ancient frontages of winding faded peach/sand passageways you enter a world of silence and tranquility. And a fruit salad of colour.

Generic Widgets: Musings on a library budget

It has been said that ‘information is the lifeblood of law and the legal profession’. And to this I would like to add, law firms continue to be the flesh and muscle of the body of knowledge which they make available to clients; good lawyers turn that information into business knowhow. Anatomical analogies are a personal favourite and perhaps to stretch this one, everyone is trying to extract a pound of flesh from the legal corpus as a whole. From clients expecting discounts, lawyers squeezing suppliers and suppliers driving hard bargains, everyone is at it.

'Imagine': Connections with contemporary artists

Once again the happy connections that are constantly weaving themselves around me struck this evening. I'd done a favour for one of my lawyers and I was merrily bouncing back to the office with an armful of books when the most amazing image in a local art gallery window stopped me in my tracks. Being easily distracted by an open door, sounds of a party and free champagne, I wandered in and jotted down a few thoughts.