Last year’s 2014 entry, sold within 45 minutes of Linden Art Show Opening.
On the 2nd August, I ventured from my cosy nest to the MADA Open Day, at Monash University. The skys were bleak, the day crisp, but I was a VU student, on a mission. I leapt in my trusty Volkswagon, careered down Dandenong Rd, and
parked at the temporary entrance, to the revered, Fine Art School.
I stepped through the plastic sheeting, and gasped at the sense of familiarity and contentment, I felt. A squat, brick building beckoned surrounded by a swarm of orange clad young people. Inside, a makeshift art studio had been set up, and the walls of paper, and giant paintbrushes were too irresistible to ignore.
It was an enlightening experience. I learnt about the rigorous entry requirements, and had a grand tour of the relatively new facilities, ably assisted by keen volunteer students. The lecturers gave an inspired speech about why they love to work at MADA.
I liked what I saw and heard, not only did I get to paint, I participated in a Life Drawing Class, and met a jewellery maker, which I learnt I can take as an elective. Inspiring stuff, now I only have to negotiate the intricacies of the VTAC process, and ensure I present my best body of work possible, to be offered a place.
I volunteer at a local Op Shop. One of my duties is to window dress the children’s window with exemplary donated goods. Amongst yesterday’s donations I found a pack of large playing cards based on the child’s Dr Seuss story, ‘One Fish Two Red Fish Blue Fish’. It was a much loved story in my household when all four of my children read it and re read it, passing it eagerly and reverently from sibling to younger sibling.
Throughout the course of the day , my ideal customer had materialised to purchase the strategically placed item . A young boy of 6, dressed in school uniform was passing the shop, with his dad, obviously on his way home from school. He had spotted the cards and implored his dad to stop and let him buy them. His eager face radiated joy as he entered the shop, went straight to the window and tentatively plucked the brightly coloured treasure from its resting place. At the counter, he nervously proffered the exorbitant sum of $3 to the startled elderly volunteer. Quickly exiting the shop he crouched in the expansive doorway, with his patient parent. He fastidiously removed the cards from the packet, laboriously counting each to make sure he had the full set and to marvel at their wondrous beauty . His bemused dad looked on.
I observed, from the shelter of the women’s designer rack, and knew I had done well. I had not only bestowed an item of great worth into the right hands, but had also possibly instilled a lifelong passion of recycling, into one so young. Now if only I could find a home for the vintage Enid Blyton book, lovingly inscribed on the flyleaf in timeless copperplate handwriting ” to Alice , Happy Christmas 1929 , love Pam ” !