Thursday, December 10, 2009
This week the creative space is beside itself with excitement. Somewhere in the last few weeks (following on from that screenprinting course) I was hit by the most brilliant notion. I have managed to secure a temporary-ish studio space. My Grandpa’s revamped workshop at the back of my Dad’s house, is available for my use, in exchange for some finishing touches: electricity, water, er, a back door. Wow.
Weirdly, my Dad acted as though he had expected my call all along. It took not one jot of convincing or negotiation. As I hung up the phone, I was reminded of a Saturday night, 11pm, somewhere in my final year of high school. I had a sudden urgent need to get to a town, four hours drive away, to photograph salinity-affected farmland for a major project. Dad and I hit the road at a quarter past midnight and were back 24 hours later. I reckon my Why The Heck Not? moments are inherited from him.
If the Christmas Shopping Gods are not with me this week, the Table God is. I picked up just the ticket for the princely sum of five dollars. The ink, screens, other bits and bobs arrived this morning and I’m nearly ready to dive in.
Best of all and against all odds, Pa’s workshop still smells like Pa’s workshop. Every time I walk in there, I get this bit of song in my head:
Do you remember that night in September
When we were young and life was mellow.
...which I have just Googled and now know to be completely wrong. It should be:
Try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh, so mellow.
For the eighteen years I knew him, my Pa whistled, hummed or sang those two lines, most of the time standing at his workbench in his wonky-ceilinged workshop. But I think I’ll stick with my childhood lyric interpretation.
Everything feels just right.
Pop on over to Kirsty’s for the last pre-Christmas Creative Spacers...