I Gain Madrid with the Gay Mother

Thursday 22nd October 2009

I haven’t been keeping up with my blog and there’s so much to tell. On Sunday Anthony Mottram and I had a perfect day.  It was a perfect day. It’s a song by Lou Reed. We went to Frieze Art Fair in Regent’s Park– for me, for the second time. According to Anthony, I was lightly cruised by Mario Testino. But it could just have been my prep school blazer from Topshop he was looking at.

Anthony dismissed the Kusama which I love. He does that. There’s no compromise. But he threw a patient, penetrating light on Grayson Perry’s Walthamstow Tapestry, a small version of which was on show at Frieze, and I began to see more, even to love it. Later at the Royal Opera House, we wondered if there would ever be a flying opera house. Assuming prompt take-off during the overture or prelude, by the end of a Wagner you might have gained Tel Aviv (that’s including intervals). With conventional, shorter operas you would not get so far. We saw Tristan. It’s by Wagner. It was utterly thrilling; I’ve never enjoyed a Wagner more. Anthony felt the same. All the way home it was talk, talk, talk.

That was it; that was our perfect day. It doesn’t sound much, I know. To some extent it cost money.

What is it, this great intimacy? Phrases do not seem to suffice: having interests in common, sharing a sense of humour, being equals. Besides, he persecutes me with chocs, we madden and infuriate each other. So when suddenly there is harmony… Perhaps it is the same for everyone: there is only one other person, at the most two, of whom we are not afraid.

Well, the sad death of Stephen Gately, and the subsequent unhinged witterings of somebody called Jan Moir in the Daily Mail (have you heard about it?) bring to the fore the whole question of gay relationships. I want to look at this, as well as the MPs expenses, as I mentioned before.

But on to higher things. I know you’ll be gasping to hear about my hotel in Madrid. Hotels, as I’ve said already, are at the heart of Poor Little Rich Gay life.

It’s very brown. I don’t think the Multis would stand for it. There’s fake rag-rolling on the walls (it’s actually wallpaper) in exactly the same shade of dirty yellow as the dining room at Massivebury, the country home of the loathed Robin Smallmeal and Simon Limpney.

But it is 5 star. Here are some pictures to keep you occupied until next time.

Wooden Hotel Room in Madrid

Wooden Hotel Room in Madrid

My Very Brown Hotel Room in Madrid
My Very Brown Hotel Room in Madrid
Posted Thursday, October 22, 2009 under Adrian Edge day by day.

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