I don’t even know what I like

Having publicly confessed to my deficiencies in the field of sport, I might as well own up to my total lack of artistic talent or appreciation. This seems to me to be a far more serious failing; any whippet can run faster than a man, any fairly fit wildebeest can jump higher, and it would not be difficult to teach a bright chimpanzee to play most ball games, but the ability to create a work of art (except by accident) is something that distinguishes us from animals.

So while my admiration of sportsmen is less than whole-hearted, I have enormous respect, and some envy, for people who can draw, or paint, or sculpt, or even make a nice picture by sticking grass and bits of cloth on a piece of cardboard. Recently I have been enjoying making up web pages which exhibit the work of a few artists; I charge a small fee for this but it’s not a money-making venture, just a source of satisfaction in that it makes me feel that I am associated in some small way with the world of art.

And I imagine that on the whole artists are rather more agreeable and interesting people than footballers or cricketers, though I don't actually know any of those.