Since last Thursday there has been a little show of my paintings up in the entrance hall.
So far, not only has no one commented on them, but I don’t believe that anyone has even noticed them, which certainly puts me in my place, doesn’t it?
I do believe that I’ve discovered the formula for producing an invisible painting.
What you do is the following:
First you contrive your life in such a way as to end up in an Old People’s Home full of nice, but culturally innocent, inmates.
Then you take a sheet specially treated A4-size gummed paper and with a pencil in your right hand (because you’re experiencing slight tremors/twitches/tremblings/spasms/shakes etc.on the right side of your body because your tumor was on the left side of your brain) and sketch vague lines and shapes in the hope that eventually they get to resemble something or other (anything will do) so that you can later impute an intention or purpose.
Next, with your paint-brush in your right hand, you apply various coloured tinctures, water colours (acrilics only to be deployed in an emergency) onto the prepared surface to see how it turns out and with any luck you’ll produce a painting.
Repeat this periodically over several months and then, and this is the tricky part, get someone to group them together and display them on a large stand in the entrance hall.
Et voilá, there you have it – invisible paintings (painted by The Incredible Shrinking Man).