https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/medicine-and-dentistry/cultural-bias#:~:text=A%20cultural%20bias%20is%20a,is%20only%20shared%20with%20intimates.

When Mary joined her art class  she found there was a very interesting man called Brian who came from Burnley. Brian’s work was excellent although none of the students had ventured beyond Constable in their paintings. But then who could go beyond Constable?

But why should dear old people be made to confront modern and post modern thoughts and feelings? Even Gustav Munch was really beyond the pale. Was he trying to warn us?

I suppose that people like to retain the idea  of the world as in some sense orderly and beautiful with patterns that can be discovered by scientists or artists. The idea that these patterns are not real that they may be imposed by us and that now we no longer have the strength or faith to do that is a subject for discussion Mary decided.

These people had lived through world war II and had served their country like Brian who had worked on radar in the Edison light bulb factory in Eastern Enfield.

The Germans were not totally deceived by it being called a light bulb factory and the area was bombed heavily; fortunately Brian’s landlady had a very strong house with a cellar so fortunately the dear man had been saved

Mary was  nervous because unlike the other students she had only taken up art when she was almost 60 years old. But anyone who does that is very brave she told herself sensitively.

But it’s not always a bad thing to be nervous.. perhaps it’s essential to be so every time you start a fresh creation

After spending half an hour looking at the blank sheet of drawing paper Mary  took up pencil and began to sketch the seabird made of wood that she had taken with her to the class that morning.

Ate we meant to put the shadows in she asked Deli the art teacher

Yes do. Shadows as re what make things real as Jung certainly saido maybe in a different language. No not Chinese,Margaret.

Actually once Mary started it wasn’t as frightening as she had imagined. And soon it was time for the coffee break

In the kitchen of the ancient and beautiful house the student sat round a large pine table to drink their instant coffee. Mary had never realised before how much she hated it as a drink and so she thought she would pour it over some plants in pots when nobody was looking rather than waste it completely m

Brian told everyone that he had been to Morrison’s and to his surprise he found a bottle of wine there exactly so was one he had bought at an expensive wine tasting experience  he had gone to in Central London

Millicent and Mimie two old friends who lived near the Catholic church in Holbrook Green 🍏 seem to feel scandalised

Did you buy any send Millicent

Of course I did said Brian. I bought three.

You should have seen the expression on Millicent’s first she was utterly critical as of unmarried or widowed older men buying wine.

Will Mary said,Wine is very useful when you are entertaining.

And heard Brian murmur quietly.

Especially when you are entertaining yourself

He had a little grin on his

Was very handsome thin bony and handsome face. In the sun his hair almost looked like fuse wire. Perhaps Millicent was trying to hide her attraction towards him as no doubt he was the best losing man in the art class which wasn’t difficult because there was only one other one there the rest of the students were all female.)

What’s a lovely sense of humour he had

Then they heard a little voice saying

I’d like to try some of that wine Brian.

They looked tound but they could not see anybody Was this the still small voice that Elijah heard on the mountain?

Then they look down the room and saw a little black cat smiling. They had never seen a cat previously but then life can be very surprising sometimes thank goodness

Emile cried Mary what on earth are you doing here?

You forgot to take your senior citizens bus pass so I thought I would come on the bus with it to meet you down here.

I’m surprised that they let you use my bus pass when you were not a human being

Well they’re so used to The madness of the current era and  our government in particular that they don’t seem to notice now whether we’re people animals or even spirits from the next world.

I came in a cab, Mary revealed,because I had to carry my art materials with me.

Oh said Emile, I don’t mind going in a cab.

Millicent and Mimi were looking at Mary as if she was a complete lunatic. The truth was revealed to all

Well some people bring their partner to the art class but not many bring their cat. And a talking cat is a very rare phenomenon in Britain ell

Have you brought your art materials Emile?

Mary has not bought me any art materials but if you let me have some of your paint I can make a picture using my paws.

No said Deli. We can’t risk getting pains on these wonderful old floors.

Don’t worr I’ve got some.socks since I can put on after I finished the painting

Or I had borrow some pastels

Mary already had a stramge reputation among the old folks so now they’re thought she was completely bonkers but the truth was that Emile was worried that Mary was falling in love with Brian and Emile did not want Mary to find a new partner unless he was absolutely certain this man would accept him as an equal in the houshould

I hate to say this said the art teacher to Mary but your cat is better at art than you are!!

Well it certainly looks post modern Mary answered. Do you think that people would buy these?

Saatchi maybe? Or maybe the king would like to buy one?

Well you never know do you?

It takes all sorts to make a world

And so say all of us

Was anyone buy emiles picture?

You have to wait 10 years for the next exciting instalment to be published. Why not write it yourself so that you can put your own experience in as you may have an even more strain story than Mary’s

The space between the words where silence lies.

Irrational as real numbers on the line

When the words are spoken silence dies.

Words can be arranged so truth defies

The origins of the loves which they combine

The space between the words where silence lies

No words are known to stand for mother’s sighs

Speech is like a song, continuous,fine.

When the words are spoken silence dies

Will the words reveal the Gorgon’s eye?

We need reflections to derive the sign

The space between the words  where silence lies

The power of words is simple and divine.

A net to catch the real,the winding twine

The space between the words where silence lies.

When we say the word the silence dies

I said I went to the clinic not  I think I’m demonic

I said I love your pink jacket not I’m  tired of the panic

I said I love Dr Hicks not, I think weaving sucks.

I said I think she’s cured me, not how can she endure me?

I told them my husband was dead, not I can’t wait to get into bed

I wonder why Freud was regarded as so unusual. Doesn’t everybody think about sex all the time? And by sex I mean love in all its forms.

I tell them I want some egg and bacon,not to make a career of faking

I wanted to have a hot bath not to provoke bitter wrath.

I wanted to conceal menstruation ,not to give men an invitation

I was telling the truth ,not mending the roof

I was washing my ears not enjoying his leers not trashing the seers

I said I fell out of bed.Not, Well,now I am dead.

I said I prefer the rural life , not his alluring wife.

I said give me a rest, not you are a pest.

I said,where is my tea,not I love her knee

I asked if you had wine,not are you a swine.

I said I feel terribly tired, not you need to be rewired

I said her mother has dementia,not that she joined

Mensa

I said where’s my pink lipstick, not I am a mystic. 

I said try meditation,not grow vegetation. 

I said,Are you quite mad,not are you my dad ?

I said I need speech therapy not your hips creak terribly. 

I said are you going deaf not I’m short of breath. 

I said ,fry a few eggs not I love your legs

I said I’m feeling tight, not why are you bright?

I said my heart is full not  watch out for that bull

I said what is  the forecast not shall we commit incest?

I said let’s go to bed, not sex drives me mad.

I said I want to go to Confession not I can’t give up fascism

The priest said was I a virgin not who was the surgeon

Sure it’s not perversion? Let’s forget about conversion.