Here it is - how much could you bear as the background to a peaceful pint?
I was prompted to ponder all this at the annual gathering of Mr N's lovely family...
when young R, who runs Robert Wyatt's local delicatessen in Lincolnshire, exclaimed with excitement that she'd heard that I, in my youth, had drawn him in the nude. I replied that this was during college hours when he was employed as a life model and that he had not been naked, but was wearing a leather thong - she thought this was even more interesting.
My memories were stirred - I remembered Robert as an impish youth, talking with enthusiasm about the breakthrough his band was about to make.
I loved his vintage leopard-skin jacket (from Ritzy's on Palace Street?)...
...though Robert always preferred to wear as little as possible.
I found out much later that I had, without knowing it, met his mother during my college years. I'd visited a Summer Fete at a handsome Georgian house in a village just outside Dover, and found to my delight that it was hosted by one of my mother's favourite BBC broadcasters, Honor Wyatt, friend of Barbara Pym and Robert Graves. She greeted my boyfriend as if she knew him well and I realise now that she had assumed he was one of Robert's long-haired musician friends, though at the time I did not make the "Wyatt connection".
Robert fell out of a window and broke his back in 1973, though he was soon on stage again, in his wheelchair, and still performs today, collaborating with the likes of Elvis Costello, Dave Gilmour, Bjork and many others.
According to R he is no longer impish, but rather "wizardy"...
...still a legend.
I cannot resist this clog-dancing version of Dondestan, by The Unthanks.