Sometimes I wonder what is going on.
I met a lady at a party about a year ago and for some reason I though, there’s something about her, I have to get to know her. I couldn’t work out what it was, even though I asked her directly. “What do you do? There’s something… there’s something about you, what is it? There is something I need to know.” Weird question I suppose. I mean, what would you say?
I went for dinner at hers about a couple of weeks ago. I was talking about how I had finally decided to get myself a studio and get painting. Turns out she’s an artist. Painter, drawer. Very subtle, beautiful. Also turns out she’s decided to become a Nun. In September she will be leaving, giving up her job, her house everything she owns and moving away to devote herself to God.
She has years of collected art supplies, everything you would need to get going, and more. Acrylic paints, oil paints, four-foot canvases, all kinds of brushes, palette knives, waxy things I have no idea what they are for, various potions and bottles of chemicals. A bag of ground up dead rabbit. She has given it all to me. “All I really need is a pencil”, she said.
Seriously.
She has made it so I have no excuse anymore.
And not only that, a table, a sofa, pot plants. Everything I need to make the studio my comfortable space of inspiration I have been dreaming of.
I’m sad she’s leaving. But, at the risk of getting a little carried away, it’s like she was sent.
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