New glasses

I'd just carted half a dozen paintings from the car park and decided to stop off at the opticians to pick up my new glasses. The overpriced trendy pair the lens of which come from Germany were still in Germany. So, the quoted two week delivery is stretching to four (I decided to use the word stretch because that's how my arms felt after carrying the paintings). My arms were aching, I was tired and this woman was treating me as if I should be understanding, patient and considerate and all the good things I generally am...but not today.

As I left, I felt a little guilty for making her feel like I'm just a grumpy old so-and-so.

My thoughts were on Molly P's post about the pink National Health glasses she  (and I) used to wear.  My arms were aching then too as my mother dragged me to the optician for my first pair. Since then, glassed have been a source of embarrassment and shame. All my life I've been trying to find the dozy beggar who chose pink for boys as well as girls. I thought I'd found that person in the shop I'd just left...perhaps it was a case of mistaken identity due to short sightedness. I might apologise when I go back, although I doubt it.

The samples Pete ordered for me are not suitable, which is why I'm trying again with the local framer. I settled on a moulding from a catalogue and asked for a quote. Fifteen minutes later she came back and could tell by my fixed stare that I wasn't best pleased. To top it all, she'd made a mistake and needed to go back and work it out again. Stop! Here's my number. Call me! And I walked out taking particular care not to slam the door in my wake. I love it when I'm in control of my emotions but it doesn't always work...as was the case in the opticians.

I'm not enjoying today! I thought the words but almost verbalised them as if to give emphasis.

I found myself passing Trent Galleries on the way back to the car park...that posh place I'd recently been in. Why not go for a hat-rick, I thought as I breezed through the open door and brightly re-introduced myself.

I asked for his opinion on my work and his personal choice for the best two to frame for the RA. With paintings propped all over the gallery, we spent the next half hour discussing it. He likes my work and wants to have some in his gallery.

It was Steven Covey (probably spelt wrong) who said something like...we view the world through our own  life experiences. As I left the gallery I viewed the world from a glorious new pair of specs. The world is truly wonderful again and there was a spring in my step as I passed the opticians on the way to the car park. I didn't even notice the weight of the paintings or care about the fact that I hadn't sorted any frames out. They'll be sorted somehow.

I painted for the balance of the day.