What a tricky business, Max. apparently, when altar wine is blessed, it is a sin to throw out the consecrated fluid so the priest, or whoever, felt obliged to quaff off the residue undrunk by parishioners. When art has been created, or almost commissioned, I don't know what rules apply. Perhaps St Stephens has a bit of spare space on a wall, in the belfry or somewhere not too obvious. You have doen the right thing for as many moons as could be reasonably expected surely anyway.
When I mentioned this to Chris (my wife P.etc-ers) she recommended an op shop because it is amazing what people seem to like and even value. Chris also suggested you may be doing an artist a favour. She said artists often buy bad art for the frame alone, painting to be disposed of in ways you don't need to know.
I love the slight shift in the description between the third and final stanzas. And the shameful admissions after the shaking of hands.
Cheers,
Bill
On 28/11/2012, at 5:07 PM, Max Richards wrote:
> Auntie Effie's Gift
>
> She'd done the painting -
> I had to thank her,
> and take it with me
> home to Australia.
>
> But truly, it was a botch -
> which was all I'd expected.
> What was my favourite
> Auckland view? I'd told her -
>
> Judges Bay, the tide in,
> St Stephen's white Chapel
> on the sloping turf
> with its settlers' graves.
>
> There they are, the lot.
> And a skyline of trees
> vague, indeterminate,
> though doubtless pioneer.
>
> But her art! her skills!
> conspicuous by their
> total absence!
> She wrapped it -
>
> Uncle Albert had
> already framed it -
> away we went.
> Decades it sat
>
> in the darkest corner
> of several successive
> Melbourne addresses,
> this latest surely its last.
>
> Downsizing requires
> we part, her daub and me.
> Yet - bin it? too cruel.
> Leave at a charity shop?
>
> Most likely they'd bin it.
> Is there a shredder might take it?
> Burning would be the thing,
> if bonfires were still permitted.
>
> Effie herself I last saw
> in a hospital bed
> near death from cancer.
> I held her painting hand, said
>
> I'd speak at her funeral -
> a promise I broke.
> Albert went soon after.
> Her paintings? gone.
>
> That view is still a favourite -
> Judges Bay, the tide in,
> St Stephen's wooden Chapel,
> sloping turf, old graves.
>
|