Showing posts from February, 2017

Why Mildred Lathbury?

As this is a new blog, I wanted to explain why I've called it the Musings of Mildred Lathbury.  In the last year, as so many things in my life have changed, I have rediscovered the wonderful writings of Barbara Pym.  I even wrote about my love for her work in an old blog post. which you can read here:-

Barbara Pym's writings are often about spinsters and subtle longings, but the timeless way she describes the inner monologue of her characters has really struck a chord.  The main character of Excellent Women was one Mildred Lathbury, a wonderfully real character,  who made me laugh and cry in equal measure.

“My thoughts went round and round and it occurred to me that if I ever wrote a novel it would be of the 'stream of consciousness' type and deal with an hour in the life of a woman at the sink.”  ― Barbara Pym, Excellent Women

I often wonder about painting a portrait of how I think Mildred s…

Losing oneself

It is often said that one can lose something of oneself in a long term relationship.  It is easy to almost merge your interests and lose a sense of your own individuality.  This blog is my attempt to write about things that excite and interest me and perhaps also a need to claim something of my own back at a time of confusion and change.

Today at Southampton City Art Gallery, there were several very interesting works, including Mark Gertler, Gilbert Spencer, Graham Sutherland and Lucien Pissarro.  I was most struck however by two specific paintings which made a difference to how I felt about the day as a whole.

I was drawn to  Frederick Gore - Olive Trees, Les Baux, (1948) from across the familiar airy space of the gallery.  The zest and power of the oranges and greens seemed more alive and vital to me that anything else.  My battered old soul was lifted up and felt reconnected with life.  So much of life has recently seemed so bruised and sore and sad, and this painting, one with whi…