I am not artistic. I don’t understand art. In fact, when I read an artist’s description of what inspires them and what they are trying to achieve, I usually end up completely confused. But that’s the point. When I walk into Studio 36, I am challenged, I have to set aside my assumptions, my expectations. Veronica always says it is best not to have expectations about anything, and this I try to practice.
Veronica and her fellow collaborators’ work is bright and colourful (usually) and always enlivening. Gordon’s art was the most colourful of all, as he celebrated and revelled in the bright colours we associate with childhood. Our house is now awash with brightly decorated mugs and plates and jugs and calendars, all from Studio 36 of course.
I cannot offer a painting or a sketch or a ceramic creation or inventive woodwork – or anything like that. I enjoy photography and that, and perhaps words, are the nearest I can get to artistic expression. But I can be in the audience and be appreciative – and of course challenged – by what I see and hear. Coming to 36 Denmark Road is coming to see friends.
And what about me otherwise? All the same things as many other people my age – birth, school, university, work, marriage (twice, second time much better), children, retirement…just one thing on the list left to do! I studied English Language and Literature at university, not half as assiduously as I would if I was back there now. From there a spell of voluntary work led me into social work and a career in Social Services, the NHS and lastly, before its abolition, the Audit Commission. I am interested in people, in nature and wildlife, and in history. I walk, cycle a bit, think (maybe too much), read, and write – a family history going back to 1379; my own history (because the 1950s was such a different world to that which my grandchildren inhabit); and even a history of our estate. Maybe I should be braver and try to write something more creative?
So, to end, and apropos of nothing in particular, here are spring tulips in the garden sunshine. Life continues.
Laurie Fentimen
