Since we know each each a bit better now - you have seen the contents of my pantry, and had a look at other bits and pieces in the dining room - I thought I would invite you into the bedroom. I have thought long and hard about this, as some things are Pretty Personal, and this is, obviously, one of those spaces. But here we go: This is the painting that hangs on my bedroom wall:
I love everything about this water colour: the tumbling water, the moody sky, the feeling of remoteness and tranquility of the countryside mixed with the chimneyed warmth of home. And a few stray sheep to add a sense of the space being inhabited. We found this painting in the early 1990s, wandering around Art in the Avenue in central Cape Town. ( A space where artists would set up their work out in the open in the tree lined avenue next to the Company gardens, near St Georges Cathedral. A wonderful wander on a Sunday afternoon, with squirrels to feed, and surrounded by heritage.) The art -and the artist- spoke to us and told us to buy it and enjoy it forever. We listened, and over 30 years later, it still brings me an enormous sense of peace.
Fast track to 2004, about 10 years after our Sunday meander. Something unbelievable happened.
We were purposefully lost, driving an unplanned route somewhere in Yorkshire. The four of us were in the UK, travelling in a hired car off the beaten track because we were in no hurry, and wanted to absorb as much of the beautiful countryside as we could. On reflection, kudos to our kids, who were 10 and 1 years old at the time, and quite happy to go on gentle adventures with us without traumas and tantrums. They were the easiest of travel companions. Anyway. The road was narrow and winding, connecting hills with dales and only a squiggly thin line on the big paper map. Not a major route or tourist path. Andrew slowed down, and then reversed the car a little, and we sat and stared, mouths open, in a mixture of wonder and disbelief. This is what we saw:
I don't understand how that could be. How had we managed to find the same river and the same house out of the millions and millions of possible places to travel? It felt as though we had stepped through the picture frame in our home in Cape Town to a surreal reality.
It is hard for me to describe how much this experience means to me, or why. I just know that I felt a cosmic connection, a sort of bridge between imagination and reality, space and time, brush strokes and bricks and mortar. It remains a deeply personal part of my life, a part that does not have to be understood, just enjoyed.
Art plays a role in the shared consciousness of us all. It is a language that crosses continents and cultures, an expression of our interpretation of the world we live in and the lives we lead. Every morning, I awake to see that the real and imaginary worlds have collided and it is possible to inhabit both simultaneously. That is the gift of this painting that hangs on my bedroom wall.
