Tuesday, April 30, 2013
I was a '68 art student who like all us students in that heady year were on our way (almost, almost) to storm the Bastille. I was standing on a chair painting a large canvas in the art studio when my tutor came by and started mumbling something about my painting and I began haranguing him about his fascist attitudes and his utter uselessness in the grand scheme of our revolution (I did, poor chap, I did).
He calmly replied 'But Michael, that red you are painting just isn't right'. And I went on about setting fire to the College, or him, or something radical like that.
And he just as calmly repeated 'But Michael that red just is not right'
And I fell of the chair crash bang wallop.
A lightning strike!
On being present.
So thank you Giotto for that memory.
Memories are great when we store them in a treasure box in our minds to open when we choose.