At present I’m re-reading Oscar Wilde’s famous novel, “The Picture of Dorian Gray” although I should be re-reading, “The Adventure’s of Tom Sawyer” for book club next Sunday; in all likelihood you are familiar with the story about Dorian Gray’s fantastical portrait which kept changing for the worse, taking on the imperfections in the handsome young man’s character, and becoming unbearably ugly – great story. Why is this relevant to me and my blog today, you may wonder. I will tell you…
Yesterday morning I received a card from a friend. The card has a picture of a Van Gogh painting of a golden field of wheat on a windy day with vibrant clouds and lively trees, and a caption – the words of Vincent Van Gogh – “I dream of painting… and then I paint my dream”. The words hit home and reminded me of an occasion “yonks” ago (well before I married Chris) when I saw a wonderful television programme all about the Everglades in Florida. Previously, I had thought about the Everglades as a frightening place filled with dark swamps, sinking canoes, prisoners trying to escape futilely, water snakes and hungry crocodiles… but the programme showed a different side, of tranquillity and magical light. The photography was stunning and I was so impressed with a particular scene of the sun shining through the mangroves, and the dappled shadows on the water, that the next day (after thinking about it all night) I thought I would paint it from memory.
The oil painting started out well and I was happy with the lovely light shining through the trees and casting pretty reflections and shadows on the water; the next day I was not so pleased because I noticed that it was getting darker. I tried to fix it, to no avail, the painting had a will of its own. Another day passed and the painting got darker still – I couldn’t understand why my impressions had changed so much and I wasn’t happy with it. By the last day of painting I rather liked my creation because it fitted my mood… and the day after that I had my periods!
Strangely enough, my ex-boyfriend at the time saw the painting and instantly fell in love with it. He insisted on buying the painting from me, rather against my better judgement because I thought the painting too gloomy for the taste of nice normal people, and it wasn’t representative of my usual style. But what could I do? I couldn’t refuse Chris (his name was Chris too – strangely most of my boyfriends were called either David or Chris – my favourite names! Also handy because I have always talked in my sleep – a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right!). A year or two later I asked old Chris (just to differentiate between him and new Chris, my husband who is actually older than the old one – hope that’s not too confusing!) if he still liked my horrible dark painting. We were often in contact seeing as old Chris also was my neighbour.
“Very much so,” said old Chris, “it is my absolute favourite and has pride of place above the mantelpiece”.
“But don’t you find it dark and depressing?” I queried, “What on Earth do you like about it?”
“If you really want to know, Sally, it’s because, of all your paintings, it is the one that reminds me most of you.”
My look of surprise turned to laughter and old Chris added, “I mean that I can see your emotions in it.”
And that’s why I think it’s rather a coincidence that I should be reading “The Picture of Dorian Gray” and receive that card!