The Lady in the Lavender

Coming home from the shops today, I almost missed seeing my neighbour Melanie sitting among her lavender bushes.

I’m not quite sure what she was doing, but then gardening is a bit of a closed book to me. The only thing I understand about it is that turning earth over is bloody hard work, and the way I learned that had me wishing I’d been left in peaceful ignorance.

What struck me when I saw her was that she and the plants were the perfect subject for a painting.

‘I should do a picture and maybe make a name for myself,’ I told her.

I was thinking I could do a Lady in the Lavender to rival Martin Schongauer’s Madonna of the Rose Garden or even Raphael’s Madonna in the Meadow.

Schongauer's piece

‘But don’t you have to be dead to be that famous?’ she pointed out.

That got me thinking. Certainly Schongauer and Raphael are both dead. So what I have to ask myself is whether death is a price worth paying for immortality.

Of course, in my case I’d have to meet some other conditions too. For a start I’d need paints, brushes, a palette, an easel, a canvas. These are all practical requirements, relatively easy to meet. Sadly, I’d also need something that can’t be bought in a shop or squeezed from a tube: talent.

Perhaps I’d better give up on the immortality bit, which at least has the benefit that I don’t need to die any time soon.

I’ll concentrate on living a bit instead.

Raphael's