Promises

8 March 2006

promisesLast Saturday my father returned to Whakatane from his private tour through the North & South Island. Dutifully he had written his diary and closely followed the recommendations of the Lonely Planet guide and daily emailed his Dutch girlfriend who’s living in South-Africa. He never had been on holiday for such a long time and now was desiring to his own couch, a stack of fresh Dutch magazines & papers and craving his used brand of chocolate.

After we had brought him to the airport, of course we also planned a visit to Fisher’s gallery. These days I’m already getting irritated as soon as we are approaching Parnell Road.
But … the gallerina plunged me into praise and brought up -on her own initiative- the ‘is-there-life-after-the-exhibition subject!
The one and only sold painting was now owned by an important collector ‘who got the right friends over’ (oh yeah, every artist knows that wear out record) and gallerina’s plan was to organize a group exhibition in 2007 with a number of surrealists or other ‘ists’ that fits my work.
Or should I look the other way? That I fit their work?

Anyway, an exhibition will be accompanied by some more fanfare and ballyhoo than this ‘Summer Salon’, which was given ZERO publicity according to me. She said that when I have finished a new painting, she could mail a picture to certain customers and if there was a gap between the exhibitions this year, they could hang my work in between.
You understand that I was fine with this handful of promises and I was a lot less fretful.
Because of our job as entertainer for our guests, currently my easel is catching dust.
First we will accompany Frank’s parents to Australia for 5 days.




2 thoughts on “Promises

  1. ahhh. vriendje R op de foto… En voor hem de beste cellphone aller tijden: een Nokia! Was het niet de 9113?

  2. Die goeie ouwe Nokia heeft de hardcoreste ontkenner nog aan het mobiel bellen gebracht! Later kreeg hij een felgele (tegen het kwijtraken) met een soort dikke rubberen bumper er omheen (tegen het vallen).

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