So start my last day thinking about food

So start my last day thinking about food, nothing about anything dirty, as always. I have to do something on my first or second days; it is too late after that as I become too sodden by drink, and too familiar with all the girls on offer in the clubs or on the streets, and familiarity has already bred contempt. If I didn’t feel like doing anything with them on day 1 or 2, I’m very unlikely to on days 3 or 4, let alone 5 or 6. Anyway, a long relaxing 6 days out of London. Some minor titillating pleasures, some minor erotic memories to take home. I’ve not done anything cultural and doubt I will until they reconstitute the old Museum of Modern Art (Modern in this case roughly meaning 1789 to 1939) as they have just lately announced they are to do. Should never have been broken up. Will the wonderful erotic Paul Delvauxs finally be brought out of storage, the Dali Temptation, the Bacon Pope with Owl, the Genie du Mal, the Alfred Stevens Salome; will La Figure Tombale be removed from her corridor and put back in a room full of treasures as she used to be. The loss of the old Brussels Museum of Modern Art is a wound in my soul that still bleeds. No doubt the Magritte Museum that took its place is a massive cash cow they are still milking, but it still should not have been allowed to happen. Open your Magritte Museum somewhere else and leave us our Museum of Modern Art. A disgrace. A disaster.


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