Once upon a time

Over the last few days, I've been doing a bit of a clean-up around the house. When I say cleaning-up, I mean in the sense reminiscing. That's the sort of tidying where one looks at lots of things, says ahhh .... I remember ... those were the days and puts everything back in the very same spot. Faux cleaning.

So far, I've cleaned up my childhood swap card collection, a large pile of fabric, my old university assignments and some baby clothes.

Now I have moved on to my high school artwork.



I studied art until the end of high school - there was a little bit of art history and lots of practical work. My finals involved submitting a folio for assessment. I chose to sketch and - disappointingly, but not surprisingly - the mark was quite ordinary.



Perhaps the examiners were thinking Art in the sense creativity and individuality, while I was thinking Art in the sense whew-that-was-a-narrow-escape-from-the-hard-work-of-physics. My kind of art was never going to set the world on fire.



But as I examine my folio pieces now, I do feel a bit wistful. I wish I still possessed some of the drawing skills I had back then. Its been a long time.



Looking at each piece is a little like looking a holiday photograph: I clearly remember being there; it was a happy time; but I might never make it back to such a faraway place.



But maybe ... with some hard work? (When I say hard work, I do mean in the sense sitting-on-the-couch-and-thinking-about-it.)