I was in the Ian Potter in Fed Square a few weeks ago. In one of the upstairs galleries was this painting of schoolboys waiting in line. It’s a picture I know well, because it used to hang on our wall. And that’s because my Dad – or more properly in this context, the artist Douglas Green – painted it.
I couldn’t stop smiling. Grinning, actually, like the Cheshire Cat. I felt like telling the other gallery goers “My Dad did that!”
But I didn’t. I did a sedate turn of the room looking at all the other pictures and then circled back again. I smiled some more, and then left, still smiling. Nice work, Dad.