At the weekend the boy and I went to have a look at the Bridget Riley exhibition. She specialises in what's known at Op Art i.e. paintings that make your eyes go all funny if you look at them for too long.
Some of them I liked, in that they were real optical illusions (kinda like Escher only not representational, and, in my opinion, not nearly as clever). Others just looked like candy-striped bed linen to me.
I'll tell you this though. In her youth (that would be the 1960's), she sure did look like a cool chick in her capris.
After about half an hour of looking at wavy lines that seemed to move in three dimensions, I was quite glad I didn't have to drive us home.