Patrons late in life

If assuming a mortgage is an intimation of mortality (see "Welcome to the fall-off rule"), paying a mortgage off is uncharted territory. In our case, it meant having the resources to buy original art. Beyond that is the even more esoteric experience of commissioning original art.

This ciment fondue piece represents two of our grandchildren twelve years ago and I apologise for the ropy photo. I tried hard with the Aldi cheapo and all were duds. I should have dusted off the Pentax and fiddled with the aperture/depth-of-field ratios. But blogging discourages patience.

However it’s the technological procedures I’m interested in. The children ran riot in the sculptor’s garden and a huge number of 35 mm shots were taken. Despite the mound of prints the final choice – this sinuously interwoven pose – announced itself. We had only one request. My wife and I detest sentimentality and asked that the work should be non-representational.

Luckily the sculptor knew better. Some weeks later at her studio we were left alone to contemplate two 10 cm high maquettes. One was a précis of the linked shapes, the other was demonstrably the children. Not a hint of mawkishness; we chose the latter. Knowing the sculptor as we did (and do) perhaps it was wrong to make even that one request.

We had intended to install the work in our garden but our growing affection for it and the fact that our Kingston-on-Thames house (12 miles SW of London) had been burgled four times meant it has stayed indoors ever since.