Low life | 6 November 2010

We met outside Tate Modern. The location was convenient for us both and held shared fond memories of aimless Sunday afternoon strolls along the South Bank. She brought along her new baby, a happy, sociable little soul, and we sat under the west wall of the old power station for over an hour and had so much to say we kept interrupting each other. We were better friends, it seemed to me, thinking about it afterwards, than when we were ‘together’.

We had no plans to go inside the Tate and look at the art. But the concrete ramp leading down to the Turbine Hall entrance was only ten yards away, and entry was free, and as an afterthought we decided to pop down and take a quick look at the porcelain sunflower seeds. If you haven’t heard or read about these, there are a hundred million of them, combined weight 150 tons, spread out in a thousand-square-metre heap on the floor.