And the Mother and Child motif was always a favourite, too. I still like it. Therapists? Got any theories?
I showed my work for some years, early on, in Art in the Park, Stratford, Ontario
"You know what I like"
I felt like I'd been treated like a real artist, at last. I'd made it! Someone trusted me!
I don't remember if I ever submitted as much as a thumbnail sketch. Maybe. This was long before the internet, so tossing ideas back and forth wasn't the effortless thing it is now.
I simply went ahead.
The nice lady looked serious for quite a while, then said:
" I don't like it"
Yikes. Being a well-brought-up fellow, I did not go ballistic. I simply offered to take it away. She was quite contrite, not wanting to do harm to a penniless artist. Still, she nodded, and asked me to take it down.
It took seconds. A couple of lifts to remove the bronzes, a few yanks to pull out the anchors. Then she said:
"what about those holes?"
I've always been pretty handy with tools. A few holes in drywall have never been a problem in my world. Everyone I know can slop in a little Polyfilla as required. I said that any local craftsman could fix this for her in a few minutes. She looked quite worried for some time. I let the silence hang until she said:
"Put it back."
I was astounded. I think I might have asked for clarification. It was true. She wanted me to put it back. I did. I got paid. I went away, no longer some high-flying artist, but a man who installed really expensive drywall compound.
Over the years, my proposals have gotten more and more explicit. When fax machines came out, I could submit drawings and quotes in real time. I grabbed on to the internet fairly early on, appreciating the ability to submit photos of work in progress.
I don't swagger as much, nor do I fall down in horror or amazement. Life is more boring, and this is good.