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| Trees on Tamborine Mountain |
It’s been difficult to write posts lately because all of my subject matter is either going to offend someone or reveal too much about me.
I CAN tell you that I did attend a very posh and arty function on Sunday where I was awarded a framed certificate and a coffee table book and then had my photo published in a local rag.
I can now add “award winning photographer” as well as “published poet” to my brag book.
Scotto and I arrived at the award presentation which was held at a local winery and were amazed to find about 100 people in attendance including the ACTUAL MAYOR and the previous mayor.
The mayor smiled at me and said congratulations when I sashayed past him as I gripped my framed certificate and grinned like a fool.
Ah… I’m such a celebrity here on the mountain now. I’m practically besties with the mayor.
Scotto and I were given a token (each) for one free wine on arrival which was a pleasant surprise. Naturally, Scotto tried to order a Corona with his wine token and was refused which took a bit away from our credibility as sophisticated, wine drinking, photographer types.
I wore my leather jacket in an attempt to look artistic. It’s not real leather but has a certain madcap/fearless, quality I thought might add to my authenticity as a gifted artiste. I have a leopard skin beret in my undie drawer which I considered, but I thought that might be overkill.
Everyone at the award presentation spoke in very posh, well-enunciated voices. Nobody actually talked to us but I eavesdropped on a lot of conversations and quickly realised that we were mingling with intellectual types far beyond our bogan circumstances.
The presentation began with a lady reciting a poem in a totally unexpected manner. We were all sitting there scoffing wine and gobbling down smoked salmon canapes when a woman perched halfway down the staircase started blathering on about Lyrebirds on the west side of the mountain.
Scotto almost choked on his mini spring roll.
Me, being a published poet and award winning photographer and all, frowned at Scotto and smiled knowingly at the culturally sensitive performance of the lady on the staircase, nodding and smiling at the correct moments and applauding delicately and knowledgeably at the finale.
It’s hard being an aficionado of the fine arts and being married to Scotto sometimes. He just doesn’t understand the subtlety of creative genius.
What are your 'brag book' moments?
Please don't comment if they're better than mine.
