Many years ago I got interested
in the stock market and luckily the first shares I bought in the electricity
shares rose nicely. Blimey, this was terrific - it was the first time I got
some money without having to earn it through working. My mum and dad were
cautious and had worked for everything they had - the stock market was a bit of
a scary black hole to them.
I invested more over the years have had exclaimed many whoops of joy and
groans of misery as things have soared and soured. Sometimes the investments
fall into the red and I’ve sometimes worked for a year for nothing, my whole
salary being me back up to a total year’s profit of nil (thankfully I’m patient
and things normally recover.) Sometimes it goes the other way and many years
ago my investments rose approximately £8,000 in about a week. I treated my
sister and brother-in-law to a long weekend in Amsterdam and this painting stems
from this visit.
We booked into the hotel around which were hoops of prostitutes in
windows. Across the road from my hotel window was a chunky lady with big love
globes. I thought prostitutes only sat in the windows from late afternoon but
this woman was beckoning to passing men at 8:30 in the morning. When the
postman passed she cupped her love globes and wiggled them at him but he was
immune. He was probably scared witless and didn’t post anything in her box.
My brother-in-law took a photo of the woman with the bouncy Easter eggs
and my sister framed the photo as a birthday present. I thought I’d do a quick
painting based on the photo.
I’ve always liked how these ball-draining whores sell themselves yet
sometimes have fluffy innocent animals in their windows (note top window.) If
you go to Amsterdam you’ve just got to trundle around the seedy bits as much as
the picturesque bits. Once I was walking down a street in Amsterdam and a
beggar kept asking for money. He was persistent and put two fingers to my
temple and said, “If you don’t give me some money I’ll shoot you in the head.”
My chum exploded and laid into the beggar who I noted was already bruised. I
often wonder what became of him. Perhaps he got beaten unconscious and a
restauranteur found his unconscious body, sawed him up, and put him into some
meat pies.
Here is a
painting done quickly without failures to reverse. It all came together quickly
and I’m sure it shows in the quality.
Unfortunately by
the time we returned to Amsterdam the £8,000 rise in my investment had
retreated to nothing. I hadn’t gained much – except memories of those Easter
eggs.
Setting off. Alfie doesn’t look very
happy about it…