Forty years on from earning her Fine Arts Degree — winning awards, and mounting many exhibitions — a painter friend of mine announced that she was hanging up her brushes. “Everyone’s a bloody artist”, she fumed, “from snotty five-year olds fiddling about with digital apps on their iPads, to pink-rinse retirees filling their guest bedrooms with yet more still-born watercolours of dead flowers. I’m finished.”
Being Judged by the Company You Keep
Being Judged by the Company You Keep
Being Judged by the Company You Keep
Forty years on from earning her Fine Arts Degree — winning awards, and mounting many exhibitions — a painter friend of mine announced that she was hanging up her brushes. “Everyone’s a bloody artist”, she fumed, “from snotty five-year olds fiddling about with digital apps on their iPads, to pink-rinse retirees filling their guest bedrooms with yet more still-born watercolours of dead flowers. I’m finished.”