I tried to think of a clever title for this post - and failed.  I had a good time at the St Mungo musuem followed by a lovely wander in the necropolis in the rain!!

There is a delightful temporary exhibition of photographs from Birmingham (which can be viewed on line here) which I enjoyed perusing.  Whilst some of the images almost seem to suggest a byegone age (look at the wall paper!) there is an endearing ordinariness about them, and they offer a happy insight into mutli-racial, multi-faith Britain at a time when we hear too much about what is ugly and sad.

In the first floor exhibition area are two beautiful paintings.  One is Ahmed Moustafa's The Attributes of Divine Perfection (here) the other a Peter Howson crucifixion (here).  Both repaid time spent with them, and the crucifixion (or is it a resurrection - even the artist is unsure!) could be viewed from different levels, which was a bonus.

Wandering the necropolis, I was struck as ever by the mix of pretension and piety, the mawkish and maudlin... here the great and good (allegedly) are buried or have huge memorials towering over the city.  And here too, right against the fence next to the brewery, hidden under a tree, is a small memorial stone that says 'Baby, 1900'.  Here are recorded the names of powerful men and their 'relicts' (widows) and the tragedy of a couple whose five children who died, one at 11 the same day as her year old brother and three more within a year of their birth, before the father died in his forties... and who knows what happened to the mother, not listed.  Enormous stone edifices and crumbling ornate mcok temples with scrub-trees growing from their rooves (roofs? when did the spelling change to the latter), and black marble hearts of more recent times via a somewhat bizarre memorial to the grand masters of a masonic lodge (were there really five unrelated men in this grave?).  Longevity and infant mortality, tragedy and attempts at imortality.  And somewhere in the midst of it all the mildly ridiculous, but somehow utterly appropriate, stone angel holding a plastic flower (here).

No great (or small) pearls of wisdom, just the bizarre blend of beauty and banality that characterise relgious art and artefacts.