On a hot Sunday afternoon after a few drinks, I laid the large canvas against the wire in the backyard. As I painted my sadness also became anger fuelled by alcohol and the 5AA talkback views on refugees. Eventually, drunk and exhausted I tossed the canvas in the kids’ shed and thankfully forgot it. A couple of years later friends of my girls declared they had found a painting that they loved, I was bemused. They showed it to me. I like it, very much. I hung it inside.
Modestly I say it was admired by others. My then partner Caddie then pointed out the paint was running upwards. I had hung it upside down. To all of us it it brought breasts in mind, I exhibited it as such. (See the next image) I won’t harangue you on my stance with respect to refugees other than to say it is firm, unlike on my stance on breasts which is flexible.
