PRISONERS, VISITORS, MINDLESS GHOULS, CITY WALLS AND STEVE HOLLINGSHEAD’S LATEST UTTERLY CHARMING PORTRAITS OF A HUMAN CAPITAL.

Couple of days before Easter, I took a break from the studio and sauntered up to London on a laudably blatantly social pretext, and caught up with various chums from the wider family. All with one end destination in mind: the South Bank, The Oxo Gallery, and 1001 Days in London.

It lead to a later night, or perhaps an earlier subsequent morning, than I had planned for – when have you seen Waterloo’s concours empty? You need to be there for 5.30 in the morning, I have discovered – after a slightly showbiz round of chats in the pub in Gabriel’s Wharf and a final round of cheese and wine on the sofa back at Kath and Steve’s.

It also, somewhere along the line, lead to a vlog. About whether we’re prisoners of our own thinking, and about perspective. Or something. Plus I chat to a nice bloke at a private viewing. Which sounds more like me, doesn’t it.