I felt like I was going backwards, starting over when I had just started. I felt life was cruel. Giving me a taste of Wendy and then snatching her away to some backward town. It was not fair. I really loved my lessons. I looked forward to them with childlike anticipation. It was exciting and I always felt so good afterwards- affirmed, inspired and convinced that I was going to be an artist.This was what I had wanted to do for so long. Long before I was married and had children. Even while I was chasing rainbows in the Laboratory thinking I was going to find a cure for cancer! Slaving for hours behind a microscope looking a t bacteria, then gradually becoming disillusioned that I would never find a cure for cancer, that I was going to be destined to spend a life doing boring routine lab work, analysing shit and urine swabs for the rest of my life.
Painting was like life at the end of the tunnel. A new beginning, What I was really meant to be. I could use the experience I had had behind the microscope to inspire and inform my sense of colour. I had always found that the most exciting and interesting part of my lab work. Looking at the bacilli and streptococcus stained with gram stain and the beautiful compositions they made on the slide. The phosphorescent colours. The pattern of blood cells! That was exciting. At last I was making that happen on paper and canvas.
Oh where are you now, Wendy. Are you still in Swellendam. I would love to see you again - have a chat. Ask you about your journey and share mine over a glass of wine.
But fate had other ideas for me it seemed.