My brother is an artiste. He has been studying for the past few years at TAFE in the country, in a town near where my family live, and he has perfected his skill enormously, particularly over the last year or so. He’s wrapping up a Diploma in Visual Art this year and had his own show earlier this week. My family and his friends descended on the TAFE in considerable numbers and we ohhed and ahhed at his work. His supervisor made an incredible speech and did nothing to hide the admiration he holds for my brother.
It was a fantastic night, a great time to appreciate all the work The Artist has put in over the last year and a good way to weed out anyone who feels uncomfortable when confronted with death, skeletons and the word decay. My mum put on a veritable feast, which was duly inhaled, and I acted as a waitress of sorts.
Upon reading one of the excerpts to the side of an artwork, I turned to The Artist and said, “you used Shellac? As in nail colour Shellac?”, to which he merely rolled his eyes. I took it as a yes. It smelled the same.
See the red dots? That means an artwork is sold. Just look at them all! Congratulations to The Artist, and here’s to all that’s yet to come!