Vicki Feaver, 20 April 1995
After Pierre Bonnard
The woman’s cupboard, she’s stocked with jellies, chutneys, pickled limes
and bottles of blue-skinned plums that just to look at is to taste
their sweet green flesh. Inset in the wall, the inside’s painted the red of petals –
poppies, geraniums – of dream blood. When she opens the white door
it’s like opening herself. Among jars of...