THIS IS HOW THE GOOD LORD WORKS
In contradiction to the famous lyrics by Shaolin Soul "After laughter comes tears", the reverse occured this fall; and this is how it turned out for me "After tears comes laughter."
I couldn't have wished for a lovelier afternoon in company of the recently knighted artist. I can't assess whether it was as nice of a conversation for Quentin, but it was the highlight of a moment in life, an unprecedented privilege.
We could have toasted with a glass of champagne, but I kept the Patsy (my alter ego) inside me, still as marble and opted for traditional afternoon delight.
Sir Quentin was like a confidant, the genre of gentleman you can elaborate on art on an equal foot, but life on a different step - his pedestal is out of reach -
Sir Quentin, or Quentin, as he objects to the"Sir"; in pursuit of maintaining the consistency of his commoner flesh, blood and bone, was the living incarnation of his drawings - endearing, fun, witty, with a dash of patience - after all he coped a couple of hours with me.
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