Anthony Gormley, looking at me.
Despite it not being the best of days, I took myself off to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park in West Bretton.
There are some indoor galleries, as well as a cafe with a great view…
…over the park (don’t touch the scones though – they are of the duck sinking variety).
I love the metal path up to the entrance….
Now that’s a promise I couldn’t ignore!
As well as the open park, there’s a formal garden.
I know they’re pernicious, but they are beautiful. Maybe one day I’ll see them in all their glory on the mountains in India.
The garden was full of Gormleys.
Masses of them.
I liked this one best. However, I missed the shot of the day – a woman languidly caressing its arm, much to the discomfort of her husband!
So, back out to the park.
Where there is a lovely tree seat.
But I’ve brought you here to meet a friend of mine.
I first met her, or rather one of her sisters, in a museum in Brussels. I had just been turned inside out by Bacon’s ‘Pope with Owls’ – she was like a drink of cool water.