This evening I will be going to the opening of Ant Noises Two at Saatchi Gallery. For some reason, I feel quite excited by this brief excursion to London. Am I deluded? The art on display is far from exciting, to be sure. I have seen it before, anyhow. It is the people I may meet there that are causing this stir in my bosom. But this is as it should be, to Saatchi’s credit, especially with contemporary art, or the art of one’s contemporaries. In the last analysis, does not the artist come before his or her art?

Addendum (August 28, 2016)

An entire millennium later, as it were, this piece is way beyond my comprehension. A brief excursion to London? An opening at Saatchi Gallery? Excited to see my fellow artists? Pure gibberish, to be sure. But the date of the piece says it all, I reckon. I was only fifty-four at the time. Silly youngster! Intemperate fool! At seventy, I would skip even my own opening at Saatchi’s, let alone an opening of my erstwhile friends in Britain. Besides, the best place to see my work is Ca’ Bon Gallery in Motovun. My house and home, it beats any gallery in London or anyplace else in the world by a wide margin. And I surely come before my art. Enough said.