Selfie-Isolating #1 He’s behind you!

Woke early feeling grim. The reality of last night’s virus restrictions announcement slowly dawning...
I am statistically elderly, living alone, distant from friends and family and addicted to being out and about in a vibrant city. Luckier than many, yet for a brief while indignant.
Later, I got the tip off that all galleries and museums were moving to imminent closure, but the Tate was still open. So, as a last hoorah, I grabbed a deserted river bus into Bankside and hit an equally quiet Tate Modern and their big Warhol Show.
While mostly enjoyably familiar, it was good to be reminded, through his rarely shown early work, that he was a delicate and accomplished draughtsman, before he became mechanised.
I turned for home, repeating the riverbus trip, always thrilling. A rather cavalier trip I realise now, but driven by a weird need to panic-consume visual culture.