Diana Smiles Down On Us All

Went to see an exhibition of portraits by the artist Sarah Moon in Brick Lane a couple of weeks ago, including 2 portraits of A4’s PhD friend T.

T. once told me I should paint less disturbing penises and draw more flowers.

This made me laugh. Sometimes the Ex says very similar things. I can totally sympathise with this view – I feel the same way about academia:

So dry. So flavorless. Like eating an entire carton of the driest crackers; Why can’t they just add a little masala, a nice duck liver pate? Anything to spice it up a bit.

So badly written: Why can’t they fucking using punctuation like normal people? Is there any need for such gratuitous use of run-on sentences? (No, there really isn’t).

Why can’t academics just write some nice sci-fi-fantasy-erotica about a English Lit. professor having a variety of saucy affairs with creatures of various genders on an intergalactic adventure trip?

I don’t want to read about how “The epistemology of post-capitalist hegemony is always already participating in the historicization of the gendered body.” 

Who the fuck does?

Some of Sarah’s Portraits below.

Some Brick Lane Graffiti:

After the show, Sarah, the Ex & I went on a quest to find some food.

The Brick Lane restaurant peddlers were out in force, trying to wrangle us into their various restaurants. (None of which inspired us with any confidence.)

This naturally made the Ex’s hackles rise almost immediately. (The Ex does not care to be wrangled! How very dare you!)

Right away the Ex was glaring and uttering blatant hostilities at the restaurant men urging us to enter into their lairs of lame food.

Holy Diana Dodi!

Before the Ex went to war with the wranglers, we picked one of the restaurants. The artwork on the walls was what swayed me.

The food was dire, the service shocking, but not for the world would I have missed these gems.

All of them (I haven’t captured the magic of them all here, sadly) were of saucy angel girls and demons.

Except one, rather randomly, of Lady Diana smiling benightedly down at the diners.

All the lurid colours, the boobies, the hint of erotica…the giant Diana beaming down. Someone tried to scratch out her left eye but it just looks like a single tear, which I think only adds to the appeal.

Diana is watching over us all, even when we are doing dirty things in the sky.

I should have taken more photos, but the Ex already grilled one of the waiters so angrily about the artist and why didn’t he know more about him, that I’m pretty sure that was why it took them 45 mins to serve us. My prancing about photographing the artwork couldn’t have helped.

These were my favs.

24 Angel & Demon Painting

Ooo so sexy. I’m so hot. Look at the face in the clouds!

27 Flying Man & Girl Crop

Who doesn’t want to eat dinner under a flying horse-man having hanky-panky with a draped woman in the sky?

25 Angels Riding Dragons

The dragons are angry because the demon is motor boating

26 Diana

Diana beams seraphically, a single tear glistening in her eye.

On the way home, at the Ex’s prompting, another Brick Lane wrangler pulled me over,

looked deep into my eyes,

paused as he judged me

and then pronounced with the voice of a seer that I wasn’t an Indian.

I’ve lived here so long he may even be right.  😦

Instead of Durga, may Diana smile down on me forever from now on.


19 thoughts on “Diana Smiles Down On Us All

  1. Instead of Durga, may Diana smile down on me forever from now on. — bwahahaha.. I look forward to such meandering posts 😛 and Id kill for restaurants with graffiti and LSD tripping angels and demons on the walls. Maybe I should move to London.

    • what are you talking about?? Omg indian restaurants have the most lurid art, the most typo ridden menus – if you move to london you can only sample the delights of these in brick lane, or maybe tooting & wembley

  2. We used to go to this Indian place–they had… you know like those fuzzy black-light type posters…. of Kama Sutra positions…. And then the restaurant got a makeover and they scrapped the only thing from the old decor meriting saving–those posters!! Ah well. The frolicking angels were great ^_^ Maybe we too can find a restaurant again with such appropriate decorations >__> Your post gives me hope.

      • I know.. they were so…. wonderfully……. ::sighs:: . Can you see it? The contorted poses, the rich folds of cloth and pattern, the leering man, the knowing playful smile of the woman… the fucking BLACK LIGHT FUZZ!!!! ::cries because they’re gone forever:: We’re in Munich, yes. Southern Germany.

        • i’m sure there are even better ones. there was a cafe in south london opposite camberwell art school that had these semi-3d landscapes in lurid blues whites and green that i now wish i had photographed. they didn’t have any erotica sadly. they should have

      • Oh here you go:


        “When I started writing a science fiction novel, after twenty years of publishing erotica and mainstream lit., I planned to write something light, something fun. I was going to write about South Asians! In space! With lots of sex! Oh, I’d start with a war, because every story needs some conflict – the first interstellar war, in fact. People would hear the news, and would take to their beds – a reasonable response to the end of the world. I was aiming for smutty, funny, maybe even charming.”

        from the amazon blurb:

        “On a South Asian-settled university planet, tensions are rising, and as they reach the brink of interstellar war, life (and sex) continues. Humans, aliens, and modified humans gather at the University of All Worlds in search of knowledge… and self-knowledge… but the first bomb has fallen and the fate of this multicultural, multispecies mecca is in question. Some people will seek solace in physical contact, some will look for spiritual answers, while others will find their strength in community, family, and love. Some will rush home to make love to their wife. Or wives. Or husbands. Or indeterminate gender human and/or alien partners. Others will be forced to decide where they stand — what is worth fighting for, or maybe even worth dying for. In The Stars Change, author Mary Anne Mohanraj presents a multi-layered, thought-provoking, and far-reaching work on sexuality and the connections between people–whether male or female, human or alien. The Stars Change is part space opera, part literary mosaic of story, poem, and art. It is fitting that a book that emphasizes the power of community was funded through Kickstarter. Begun as a project entitled “Demi Monde,” The Stars Change is the result of the money raised by supporters that went to pay for not only the art and illustrations in the book, but the author’s time, allowing her to focus on writing for that crucial interval.”

        –I wouldn’t really blame you, Janine, if you run out and buy this book and jerk off silly to it. Heck, I often jerk off the hardest to the dumbest shit myself. But this book sounds really really REALLY dumb. I mean, when the author thanks strangers for donating the money for her to write interspecies porn set on a “South Asian-settled university planet” (!!!!!), how further can narcissism sink? Yes, truly, lady, you are making our world a richer, more vibrant place. By accepting donations to write interspecies smut set on Bollywood Centauri U. Da fuck?

        –Oh, you know what though? I just realized I do recognize this chick’s name. And yes, I have actually at some time in the past jerked off to something this silly bitch has written.

        Oh my god, the shame.

        –I think I’ve had an epiphany. I’m old enough now to start feeling actual disgrace about the awful people whose writing I’ve masturbated to.

  3. Pingback: Roving Academics | Tin Roof Press

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