A little while ago I was scrabbling around looking for a half decent photo of me to put on my blog – I have had a beautiful profile of my cat on the blogs but thought that perhaps people might like to actually see me. But, a decent photo is exceptionally hard to find – I have a new driver’s licence photo and fairly new passport photo and the least said about these the better……. And I have a photo taken on Christmas day with neon green Dracula teeth in my mouth – not a bad photo but not quite what I wanted.
So in my scrabblings I found a framed ink drawing done of me by an artist called Roderick Freemantle. This is the sweet moment in my life that I want to talk about.
In 1999 my cousin Avril was doing a philosophy course at a private school and I went with her to the annual fete. Roderick Freemantle had donated his time and considerable talent and was doing ink drawing caricatures with donations going to the school.
We queued up and when it was my turn, I spent the most memorable and sweetest 10 or 15 minutes chatting to Roderick. For whatever reason we spoke about our names and I told Roderick how I had never been comfortable with my name and as a child I secretly called myself Susan Patricia and wished every night that I could be this Susan Patricia person. Roderick said as a child he always like cowboys and had a bit of yen to be one…. also was not too sure about his name but didn’t quite know what he would call himself – I suggested Luke as it seemed to fit him well. He liked that name very much. I am not sure what else we spoke about but I left with a warm heart and huge liking for this man…. In fact I told Avril that I had fallen profoundly in love, albeit for a scant 10 minutes, and I never saw him again
When I found the drawing again I had a flood of wonderful memories and feelings of that meeting and thought I would write about it. And I also thought I should Google Roderick, see if he was still around, and find out from him if he minded me publishing this. He has a great website http://roderickfreemantle.com/ and you can have a look at his wonderful paintings and drawings. He also has a series on cowboys!
So, before I posted this on my new Happiness blog, I sent this off to him to see if it’s ok. I am sure he remembers that day and I was holding thumbs he remembered me!
A toast to very sweet moments – never forget them.
Roderick’s very special reply follows.
Dear Susan Patricia, alias "Liz",
You needn't have asked for permission, but I thank you for doing so. I do remember the day and, seeing the drawing again, I remember the conversation. Meetings like this are rare and sweet, complete in themselves, "self-effulgent" (a word that springs to mind, but I'd better look it up first to make sure that its right). "Self-effulgent" is right; the moment radiated with its own light. But there's something else that is now very clear, having just read your e-mail; something perhaps even more significant than the moment itself: the spoken acknowledgement. It seems to me that this is really why we have been given the gift of speech: to speak, in our own voice, of the truth as we experienced it. Somehow, in the attempt to speak about the unspeakable, the unknowable becomes known - not as knowledge to be stored away for future use, but as a present force of undeniable affirmation, a force that totally extinguishes doubt. And this elimination of doubt, combined with the memory of the moment of sweetness that gave birth to it, acts as an indelible remembrance of who we really are and why we are here.
So the praise goes beyond the individuals involved, blessed as they certainly were by being party to it. Praise, it seems, is essentially spiritual, and the spirit, by nature, always rises.
Thank you for the acknowledgement. While I wallow in the reflected light of your kind words, I have to remind myself that the trail stretches out beyond the shimmering horizon; that there's no stopping in this one-horse town; that, as much as I would love to linger while the tough girl with the heart of gold applies ointments to my battle scars, I must saddle up and say "adios" one more time.
Blessings and thanks,
Luke, alias "Roderick Freemantle"
So in my scrabblings I found a framed ink drawing done of me by an artist called Roderick Freemantle. This is the sweet moment in my life that I want to talk about.
In 1999 my cousin Avril was doing a philosophy course at a private school and I went with her to the annual fete. Roderick Freemantle had donated his time and considerable talent and was doing ink drawing caricatures with donations going to the school.
We queued up and when it was my turn, I spent the most memorable and sweetest 10 or 15 minutes chatting to Roderick. For whatever reason we spoke about our names and I told Roderick how I had never been comfortable with my name and as a child I secretly called myself Susan Patricia and wished every night that I could be this Susan Patricia person. Roderick said as a child he always like cowboys and had a bit of yen to be one…. also was not too sure about his name but didn’t quite know what he would call himself – I suggested Luke as it seemed to fit him well. He liked that name very much. I am not sure what else we spoke about but I left with a warm heart and huge liking for this man…. In fact I told Avril that I had fallen profoundly in love, albeit for a scant 10 minutes, and I never saw him again
When I found the drawing again I had a flood of wonderful memories and feelings of that meeting and thought I would write about it. And I also thought I should Google Roderick, see if he was still around, and find out from him if he minded me publishing this. He has a great website http://roderickfreemantle.com/ and you can have a look at his wonderful paintings and drawings. He also has a series on cowboys!
So, before I posted this on my new Happiness blog, I sent this off to him to see if it’s ok. I am sure he remembers that day and I was holding thumbs he remembered me!
A toast to very sweet moments – never forget them.
Roderick’s very special reply follows.
Dear Susan Patricia, alias "Liz",
You needn't have asked for permission, but I thank you for doing so. I do remember the day and, seeing the drawing again, I remember the conversation. Meetings like this are rare and sweet, complete in themselves, "self-effulgent" (a word that springs to mind, but I'd better look it up first to make sure that its right). "Self-effulgent" is right; the moment radiated with its own light. But there's something else that is now very clear, having just read your e-mail; something perhaps even more significant than the moment itself: the spoken acknowledgement. It seems to me that this is really why we have been given the gift of speech: to speak, in our own voice, of the truth as we experienced it. Somehow, in the attempt to speak about the unspeakable, the unknowable becomes known - not as knowledge to be stored away for future use, but as a present force of undeniable affirmation, a force that totally extinguishes doubt. And this elimination of doubt, combined with the memory of the moment of sweetness that gave birth to it, acts as an indelible remembrance of who we really are and why we are here.
So the praise goes beyond the individuals involved, blessed as they certainly were by being party to it. Praise, it seems, is essentially spiritual, and the spirit, by nature, always rises.
Thank you for the acknowledgement. While I wallow in the reflected light of your kind words, I have to remind myself that the trail stretches out beyond the shimmering horizon; that there's no stopping in this one-horse town; that, as much as I would love to linger while the tough girl with the heart of gold applies ointments to my battle scars, I must saddle up and say "adios" one more time.
Blessings and thanks,
Luke, alias "Roderick Freemantle"
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