Dickens has the
capacity to paint humankind in all its raw grottiness.
He does a great job of
drawing a Pip and his high hopes in Great
Expectations. He yearns after
Estella interpreting the actions in his
world as indicators that she indeed is meant for him. Though it is impossible that the money he ‘inherits’
is grooming him for a cold hearted woman above his station, he just wants to believe
that he will be a gentleman, and she will be his.
As Horace said: Life
is largely a matter of expectations
This week I watched
Derren Brown’s The Secret of Luck. The program was part of a number of
social experiments he has undertaken and filmed. In this episode he started a
rumour that a dog statue in the park bought luck if you rubbed its head. As the
rumour grew, more and more people shined the canine’s pate, and more and more
reported having been lucky as a result.
What he concluded was that if you think
you will be lucky, then you tend to take opportunities that improve you chances
of success. Even the local butcher who failed to notice any of the
opportunities that were put in his way until he saw a large sign on the back of
a truck telling him to call a phone number, finally got the cash.
Great expectations fulfilled.
I wonder what the
expectations were of the parents who sent their sons and daughters off to live
in St John’s College- that they would break furniture, trash rooms, defecate in
the common room, cause the near death of a fellow student ?
Probably not.
Do I expect that the
spoilt and indulged come to believe that the rules don’t apply to them?
I am reading about
all this in the weekend press, and to
return to Dickens I am reminded: Take nothing on its looks; take everything
on evidence. There's no better rule.
The Capital Chemist Arts Award opened on Thursday. I hoped
to have work selected, but I wasn’t expectant. Maybe it’s Derren Brown’s theory
of opportunity that is at play, for my latest chook painting: Brutus, do you think they are watching us?
is now hanging and exposed for the next three weeks.
Art competitions are funny things. The winner is in the
hands of the judges and you can never be sure what they are looking for. It’s a
bit of a lottery and like rejected novelists, you could get pretty discouraged
by all the rejections. But this time, they were clear: they selected
portraiture, and looked for technical skills – but I didn’t know that before hand,
so the chooks didn’t really get a look in – so to speak.
And what of my expectations? To overhear someone observing the work make a
decent comment about it.
I spent Saturday helping celebrate a friend’s 60th
Birthday. It well and truly exceeded my expectations- a bus trip with friends
and champagne; prawns and oysters on the edge of the Myall Lakes; and great frivolity.
I have just one tip from
Dickens for the group:
Take another glass of wine, and
excuse my mentioning that society as a body does not expect one to be so
strictly conscientious in emptying one's glass, as to turn it bottom upwards
with the rim on one's nose.
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Art Work of the Week
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| Brutus, do you think they are watching us? in situ Tuggeranong Art Centre Gallery |
And I always expect your posts to be interesting - my expectations are, as ever, fulfilled!
ReplyDeleteAnd mine - always at your best with words and observations - and art of course - and just about everything - would not expect anything less - love it
ReplyDeleteThank you. You are both too kind
ReplyDelete