Sketching at the local country park.
Couple hover around me but can’t get behind me because the bench I’m on is backing onto a bush
After 30 seconds I look up and ask if they wanted to sit down, that I’m happy to move, (I’m not but hey ho)
They ask if they can look at the drawing, then ask a ton of questions on why I’m sketching a wonky tree…. (the lighting was amazing……
WAS)
Then they do the thing EVERYONE does.
Our daughter is an artist….
Blah blah blah
I’m going to be really honest now guys, I’m sorry, but I’m seriously NOT INTERESTED in other family members.
I’m not interested in their art degree,
or how well they are doing in London.
I don’t give a monkeys bottom about their last show.
Just because I’m sketching does not make me a listener or even a very nice person…..
I’M WORKING and I was enjoying the solitude and the complete immersion in dreams of being the next Monet….!
I don’t know you.
I don’t want to know you!
And now my light has gone. The sun took the opportunity to stop that gorgeous sparkling stream through the branches, flashing on the top of the….(RATS)…. now dull, pale, daffodils.
And…I hate you.
So much.
No, I say grabbing my stuff up and scrunching it into my tote bag…… you sit here. I was finished anyway and I stalk back to the car growling………….
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So painfully honest!
Yes, sorry. But it’s not just once or twice. It’s every single time.
Someone asked me what I did for a living just the other day. I told them. I then had chapter and verse on their daughters wanting to be one and how good she was and how the husband did art…. And and and and. They take over……. Completely. And I let them. So I’m fed up with it.