Last week I was surprised and delighted to find one of my paintings sitting in the basement store of the Art Gallery of Ballarat. Acquired by the gallery through a benefactor’s donation it now awaits “accessioning”, that arcane process of numbering and cataloging that museums do in order to keep track of our history and culture.
The poor wee thing looks a bit lost and lonely down there right now, amongst works by Sidney Nolan, Fred Williams and other big guns of Australian art history. I swear I heard it whimpering. I felt sorry for it and left it with a saucer of warm milk and a digestive biscuit.