Life and Love

Number One Fan

Saturday, 9 May 2015

Last year I lost my number one fan - the one who admired my drawings from the time I held a crayon, who gave me colouring-in books and my first tin of paints, who had my first “proper” expressive pastel on the bedroom wall for fifteen years - whether it matched the decor or not. The one who had my website in her favourites and read my blog.

My first watercolours were framed by her and hang in the kitchen. My watercolour portrait of Nana, my first oil painting, and my only floral oil hang in the lounge room with the Butterfly Kisses I painted for Dad. There was always room at Mum and Dad’s for another painting.

Pride of place in the hallway is her favourite, Father and Son, two peacocks in gouache and pastel. They didn’t match the way I thought I should paint. I thought they were too realistic, too literal. Mum loved them and admired them from the time I painted them until the day she left this earth.

Just a week before she passed, Mum and I sat together in her hospital room while she looked with delight at my recent holiday outdoor sketches and watercolours - fifty plus of them.

I have learned that what matters most is not how contemporary my art practice is, how many paintings I sell, or the fancy galleries where I show. Our significant paintings are the ones that have meaning and connection, and our most important admirers are the ones that love us, regardless of what we paint.

If you still have your Mum - hug her, or phone her.

I wish I could hug mine.

I love you Mum.

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day.