I went and paid my last respect to a dear friend. His family requested a painting from me to be carved onto his headstone and that had just been completed.
I was then invited to attend a party for the developmentally challenged.
There was a Blues band playing for the banquet and this young lady with Down Syndrome climbed onto the stage uninvited. Normally this would have been a social disaster, but perhaps because of the company that we were in, nobody bothered. Except for two people.
The young lady was enthusiastically swaying to the music, keeping time to the snares, having a jolly good time.
And the mom was busy capturing the daughter's every animation with her cell phone, exuding utter joy from her face.
I couldn't help but think about the pure innocence and elation exhibited by the child, and the unqualified pride and amazement felt by the parent. That was a private moment, even though the venue was a very public one. Such was the dichotomy. We could only guess, perhaps, what was going through the minds of these two individuals.
Kinda like viewing (or reading ) our paintings. There is no mass hysteria, it is not a rock concert. There is no protocol to like them, or to dislike them, it is not science. We can talk till we are blue in the face about techniques, theories and what not but it all boils down to the private conversation we have with our audience. Our paintings are our ways of letting people take a stealthy glimpse of ourselves.
The thoughts are all mine, and they are kinda private. I'll confide sometimes, somehow, to someone.
