The main subject is at the top left of the canvas. This man
is coping with some rejection. I’m afraid this comes from experience, even the
leaning on the wall. There was someone I liked for quite a while and one day
telephoned her to ask her out (bold for me.) We rang each other occasionally. I
had planned it the day before, what I was going to say. Rather than jostle with
nerves for an hour or two I took a coffee into the board room in the offices
where I spent every Monday to Friday and decided to go for it. There was a
phone in there and I had taken in a wooden wedge to seal the door shut.
I’m
afraid it did not go well. After some general chat she must have sensed what
was coming and told me she was back with her boyfriend (which I knew to be a
white lie) and, worse, than I should not call again. In my mind I had cast some
hopeful long-term plans with her but a door was banged shut. I almost felt my
heart physically drop down into my heels. It was the first time I felt a bit
crushed. I don’t think I leaned on the office wall at such a desperate angle as
the man in this painting but I remember leaning my shoulder on it while I
absorbed an avenue of opportunity being blocked for always.
About
five years later, out of the blue, I received a call from her one evening. She
had never married and had a second child. The father left within a week of the
birth. For some reason things were tainted and I didn’t want to know. I’m not
sure if I was just more at peace with myself or had become more self-contained.
I don’t think I ever forgot her saying "don't contact me again."
After two or three more conversations I felt I was a bit of a Plan B.
I
recall my mum telling me, “You might end up with a ready-made family” and “Some
women aren’t as nice as they seem.” I thought the first statement was the more
accurate but, in this case, the second was. Oh well; life is roses and a few
thorns.
I
know it’s a strange painting but I'm not one for painting orchids in vases. As
the canvas was small I couldn’t squeeze in much detail. I should have used a
bigger 50 x 40cm board to make the faces easier. I must have painted the lady’s
nose and scraped it out ten times. She had a Pinnochio
phallus of a beak one moment then a tiny turnip the next.
I
liked painting those brushes and associated shadows. Someone suggested the
painting be called Sweet Nothings but
its not that sweet is it?