Went to see the Agnes Martin show at Kettles Yard on Saturday. It was wonderful to step out of the heat into the gallery and enjoy the faded colours; the bands of paint which the pencil lines cannot quite contain; little seepages of thin paint cross the line of the pencil mark – betrayals of emotion leaking out.
Driving home the sky was a hazy pale blue divided by a band of endless white cloud; I felt I was driving into one of her paintings.