I may have mentioned that for a number of reasons we have been downscaling our home. One reason was the need (albeit theoretical) to pack our 30 years of marriage into a barge. A more immediate reason has been my daughter’s 99% move away from home. By my calculation, the remaining 1% can be put down to her dirty washing which still finds its way into my washing machine all too often.
So sorting through her mountains of ‘must-keeps’ I came across this old scrap of cardboard dating back to her ‘Gothic period’, a very trying time for both of us. For her because she was going through that terrible adolescent stage of ‘I-hate-the-world-and-nobody-understands-me-least-of-all-that-idiot-of-a-mother’, whilst I, for my part, was suffering a similar sense of distress for my apparent incapacity to keep things on track.
But anyway, finding this declaration immortalised by her own hand, I somehow felt a duty to keep it within ‘eye-shot’ so to speak, just to remind me of what we had come through together.
She could hardly believe that I had actually paid to have her graffiti framed – and was gobsmacked that I had dared to hang it amongst all our other ‘art’ on our lounge walls!
Lest we forget …
When you buy something from an artist, you are buying more than an object. You are buying hundreds of hours of failures and experiments. You are buying days, weeks and months of frustration and moments of pure joy. You are not only buying a thing, but a piece of heart, a part of the soul, a moment in the life of someone.