Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Saturday, 8 July 2017
Nothing funny about painters
Time to show one of H.I.'s schoolgirl drawings again. No tracing, no colouring-in - just straight onto the page.
What I like so much about it is thinking of her as the serious painter she turned into - she was already one when she did this - studiously copying every silly detail of Pluto's Disney world, regardless of the indignity of it all. Painters almost always take themselves far too seriously, so when the guard is dropped it is quite endearing. I mean, just look at the expression on that rabbit's face.
Over the years I have had all sorts of different girlfriends, but I have never really felt at home with the ones who were not some sort of artist, even if in only a very small way.
Ironically, it was always the artists who were the most difficult to live with. I would become terminally bored with women who were quite happy to do an office job up until they had children, then be quite happy being a mother until they were able to go back to the office or retire and wait for grandchildren. I am not saying that there is anything wrong with that sort of life - it is what most people do - it's just that I would become restless with it, despite my hankering after routine.
Painters, eh? You can't live with them and you can't live without them.