Ancestral Heights – Part 2

(Part Two of Ancestral Heights… scroll down for Part One) There are various artists dropping in, with ambitions to hang in the gallery. We don’t have any room, I want to tell them, and they are the ones who behave the worst. During the first show I attended ‘At Home’, one of those aspiring painters got so drunk, he had to be carried out. Then we had the artist who brought her entire family of twelve members, including the baby, who screamed like a banshee.

Another lady with a Modigliani neck and a black fringe shall remain nameless. Having painted a series of unappealing cabbages, she had them placed in mock Dutch 17th century frames. (Frankly, a poor nod to Surrealism from a pug’s point of view). And the woman was a nasty piece of work. She had an aura that made furniture freeze. But the pictures all sold! The lady then rang the next day at a ridiculous hour, waking both Mistress and myself, to complain about her CV.

People are devious. Take that old couple arriving in a taxi last month. The man wore a hat and carried a walking stick. They had seen our ad in a magazine. They were interested in viewing the gallery.

“We’re only open ‘By Appointment’ said Mistress. (And quite right, too, with the state of the place in the mornings).

“We’ve come a long way,” said the man. “In fact we’ve come from the airport.”

Mistress looked at me. I gave a yawn and buried myself in her legs. It was her problem.

“Alright then,” Mistress said.

Well she made coffee, brought out the biscuits and showed the couple round the two floors.

They admired the paintings, the wonderful sense of colour and the high level of draughtsmanship. An hour later, the woman produced a card with long red talons for nails.

“Would you look at our work, please? We are artists and we have our biographies and our statements, our beliefs in Art as we see it in the 21st Century.”

The woman smelt of scent that was just turning.

“I’ve got artists’ statements from here to Eternity in this house,” Mistress said.

She saw them out finally and tore up their business card.

Just before they left, I peed on the man’s left shoe. He hopped all the way to his waiting taxi.