Identity. What am I?

I found Red Bubble, using Google, when, at last, SOMEONE mentioned the Oyster Bay Art and Craft Festival and it was in the forum, here.
The first festival was held in 1970. It is well-established. I am blissfully unaware of how the Art Exhibition part of it is viewed by artists and art-lovers, in Sydney.
I first visited it with my, then very young-, children and their mother, in the early 80s.
It felt like a lovely community event.
Since retiring from primary School teaching, ( initially a little early to look after two very ill, elderly parents, ) I got round to enrolling in an art class, at the Hazelhurst Art and Community Centre, at the beginning on 2006.
I was taken to Hazelhurst to have lunch with my daughter, now older than what she was when we visited the Oyster Bay festival, in the early 80s.
She (and her mother) also alerted me to the Inspired by Rembrandt competiton, being run by Radio Netherlands, offering as prize, a few months’ tuition, in the Netherlands.
That spurred me on to produce paintings in the four ‘Rembrandt’ categories, getting advice and encouragement from the teacher, at Hazelhurst.
One early morning, last year, I watched my paintings being removed from the Radio Netherlands website, as the 10 hour time difference, during our daylight-saving time, meant that, even though this was being done in the dead of night, in Hilversum, Holland, it was early morning here!
I had not made it into the final 18.
This weekend, I have not sold any of my paintings, at the Oyster Bay Art and Craft Festival. I have mixed feelings. They ARE my ‘babies’. I like to have them around. I guess, IF they had sold, it would have proved something.
These were not my only mixed feelings, these last few days.
I delivered the paintings on Thursday. It was lunchtime, I parked beside the crowded playground and was greeted by some enthusiastic children who wanted to see what I’d brought and pointed me in the right direction.
Walking through the playing kids, I was in familiar territory, after 37 years of teaching, that doesn’t just disappear. I felt like a teacher again. I joked with the lady I met that I felt like taking over her playground duty.
Someone else asked me, later that evening there, if I was an artist. I guess that, until I sell a painting, or win a prize with one, I shall still feel more like being a retired school teacher.
I actually DID pass up an opportunity to sell one, on Mothers Day.
I was minding the D.A.C.C., (Dutch Australian Cultural Centre) and passing the time, while waiting for visitors, painting a picture.
I also had a finished one there, of my daughter, standing outside a famous museum, in Paris.
Two young ladies, who were there to celebrate Mothers Day, with their mother (visiting the Dutch Shop restaurant) became very excited and fetched her, from the restaurant.
All three convinced me that my painting could easily have been of this lady and she asked how much it would cost.
But it WASN"T a painting of her.
All I have spoken to since, say that I should have offered to paint the lady herself. So that it would not only LOOK like her but BE her.
Painting is fun! Teaching was great!! (It kept me young.)

Journal Comments

  • Jennifer N. Heibloem
  • Michael Douglass
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