Apart from being a wannabee writer, I always wanted to create my own artworks, paintings and such like, I have a good eye for colour and creativity. So, let me set the scene for you, I used to have a part-time job as an assistant in an Art Gallery for a wonderful man called Arty. He was an old family friend, he went to the same school as my father and he was a very talented chap and a brilliant music teacher who owned the small Art Gallery in the sleepy Cotswold village of Chedworth.
Arty was married to a lovely woman called Miriam, who was always the life and soul of the party, it didn’t matter who you were Miriam always made you feel special. She was Arty’s second spouse, his first one Ruth, died in a car accident when I was thirteen. Miriam was French, he met her whilst he was taking a holiday in Paris and he was wandering around in the Louvre looking at the renaissance paintings. He says he caught sight of a beautiful female form out the corner of his right eye and plucked up the courage to ask her name and they have been together ever since. I think it was also his intention to stay at home with Miriam so that they could grow old and paint pictures together.
By trade Arty was a session musician, who used to play his guitar with some of the greatest names in the music industry. Then one day, he decided that he didn’t want to go touring around the world or do the daily commute into London anymore, so he gave it all up and opened himself an Art Gallery, and took a step away from playing music with famous celebs to providing the evening entertainment at weekends for couples entering into a state of wedded bliss.
I’ve known Arty since I was eleven years old or thereabouts and have worked with him on and off since I was nineteen. He taught me everything that I know about music, he also taught me how to play the piano, the guitar and the violin. When I used to come home for holidays, in the days when I was at Uni, Dexter and myself used to go and busk on the Underground with our guitars, but I never pursued a professional music career and music just became a hobby.
I’m the sort of person who likes to tinker with all sorts of different things, I have my long piano playing fingers buried in all sorts of different projects and I just keep on adding extra strings to my bow, pardon the pun, because you never know when they will come in handy. As for my nine to five job, well three thirty to be precise, the pay isn’t much and I’ve even dabbled in a spot of nude modelling for the art students at the local college to help make ends meet when times were really hard.
In my weekend job, as an entertainer, I play music alongside Arty at weddings. I play the violin whilst the bride, groom and all their guests, slurp their soup and push their knives and forks around their plates whilst munching on their glorious wedding luncheon and then I play guitar with a five piece band during the evening reception and hopefully the guests get up and dance to the music and generally enjoy themselves.
In that line of work I get to meet so many guys, but none of them are really my cup of tea and half of them have already met the loves of their lives and are rapidly progressing up the aisle into wedded bliss by the time I get to meet them.
So, as you can probably tell my social life never seems to be boring as there is always something going down, but on the other hand my own love-life sucks, it always feels like it is nonexistent even when it isn’t. I really did believe that the man of my dreams would be out there for me somewhere, but at this point I was only looking half heartedly, I know that he’s out there somewhere, and he just hasn’t found me yet.
No comments:
Post a Comment