April 29. Day 120 "Suffering" for my art. Part 1 and 2

You can count the number of original artworks I have purchased on the pinkie of one hand.
That's right. Just one. A quite beautiful painting of the Story Bridge by Brisbane artist Starr. Actually it was a gift. A gift in the sense that I went into a gallery, chose it, handed over the credit card, had it wrapped and brought it home for my husband to "give" to me for our 15th wedding anniversary. That type of gift.
Anyway, as a result of that purchase gift, I am on the mailing list of one of Brisbane's top commercial galleries. This means I get invited to dos, rather nice dos with the types of people who do buy art not those who have it gifted to them when they've been married for 15 years.
Sometimes, like today, I attend the dos and pretend. I might as well. I like original art even if I can't afford it and I like champagne and canapes. I consider having to endure smooching and small talk as the price you have to pay, the suffering for your art. Anyway, the arty types tend to be quite amusing. And in 2014, I will have been married for 20 years so I might as well start planning for what my husband might want to "give" me then.

Suffering for my art 2

I can now call myself a great artist because this photo proves I am prepared to suffer for my art. All right. That's a complete load of wank. This photo proves that in the pouring rain my car decided to break down at night in pouring rain at the very busy Vulture Street entry to the Pacific Motorway in the pouring rain and had to be hoisted on to the back of a tow truck in the pouring rain. Did I mention that it was pouring rain?
Which is not to say I wasn't suffering. Yes, I've had better nights. Waiting almost three hours for the RACQ to replace a battery - yes that was the problem - is not my idea of a fun way to spend a Saturday.
But that's not the worst of it. I simply wasn't dressed for the occasion. The clothes a girl wears for a night at the theatre are not the same as one would wear for standing under an awning by the side of the road in the rain. Not even close. I admit I actually shed a tear at about the two hour 30 mark when the second of two tow trucks left me in a 7-Eleven service station to wait for roadside assist to see if the car could be started.
I hate that. I hate being weak. In terms of world suffering this is a big fat nothing, even if I wasn't wearing the right shoes.
And what's more I may have been alone but I had company (and I'm not just talking about the voices in my head here). This is what's smart about a smart phone.
1) You can call for help
2) You can take pictures to prove your suffering
3) You can monitor the unfolding election results
3) You can enlist the wonderful world of social media to keep you company. I love all the people who told me jokes, sent virtual hugs and virtual coffee, who kept checking in to see I was okay and who even offered to come and wait with me.
I could have done with a thick waterproof jacket and sensible shoes but I did feel your warmth I promise you. Thanks
PS.This would have been today's photo but I took it yesterday when I'd already blogged and that would have been cheating.