This ANZAC day I spoke at the Waverley RSA service, which was a privilege. As always, I remember with love my Dad, Mansel Barker, and Dad 2 Jack Robinson (my best friend Sandra Robinson’s Dad). I also acknowledge the loss of so many ANZACs overseas, and am grateful our Dads came home.
It’s 22 years today since Dad died unexpectedly, a month before his 66th birthday. He retired at 60 and spent his days helping farm mates, pig and deer hunting, and going fishing. He and Mum made 3 trips to Asia once he retired. He was a busy, and seemingly fit, man.
He went fishing at Waverley Beach one Sunday morning and had a massive heart attack. The young man next to him did CPR but had to leave him to get help and, by the time he got back, Dad’s heart had stopped again. As bad as we all felt for the young man who had tried so hard, I’m pleased Dad did not survive. He’d have hated being a patient, being told what to do, being incapacitated. As Mum used to say “Mansel got it right, he just died ten years too early”.
So today, and every day, I remember him with love. He was a hard working, patient man who gave huge bear hugs. I miss him.
Do you like my new tattoo of Dad? It looks a bit wrinkly because of the gladwrap over it to protect it as it heals.
No? Okay, you’re right. I’m too chicken to get a tattoo, and Tony has enough for both of us!
Yesterday I mentioned that I have a plan in mind for new Legato works. The plan involves image transfers. Yesterday I did some laser copies of photos from WWII of Dad in uniform then gave them two thin coats of Golden’s Clear Tar Gel and left them to dry well overnight. Today I soaked one really well then rubbed most of the paper off the back. I let it dry to see how much paper pulp was left then soaked it again, and draped it over my arm so I could use my other hand to gently rub more paper pulp off. I find having it on my arm means fewer creases in it, and I can feel how much pressure I am applying – rub too hard and the image gets damaged. I’m pleased with it so far – it’ll be interesting to see if it is totally clear once it’s dry.
Cath Sheard Art 