Sometimes by accident, sometimes in self-defense, sometimes just dumb luck –– I guess you could say I am an art collector. I have a lot of pictures on my walls and there were some that I had no room to hang in my new apartment.
When I decided to go back to the university to get a master’s degree, I was about three days late in applying. The secretary who presided over the graduate admission office, Miss Lucy, said: “Too late. Try next year.” I didn’t even think about appealing.
My next door neighbor at the time was a student in painting at the YWCA. At her urging, I joined a class there just to mark time until next year came. It turned out that I was a pretty good copyist, totally without that creative talent that makes one an artist. But I learned a lot about art that year. I painted my last picture when my graduate school acceptance came through.
My husband and I were very compatible, except about napping. His favorite thing to do on Sunday afternoon was to sleep it away, preferably with me watching him sleep. Sleep was for me what you did when you couldn’t find anything else to do. I looked for other ways to spend Sunday afternoons. The Meridian Gallery came to the university from Indianapolis once a month on Sunday afternoons, bringing a truckload of art for an auction. I was a regular attendee, learning from the gallery owner. What you learn about, you also learn to like. Money was scarce, so I didn’t plan to buy but frequently when something I liked hadn’t sold, I negotiated a reduced price with her and I began to collect.
Then I discovered local art being sold at Fourth of July Festivals in Lexington, at art shows that may have been here but I hadn’t known about previously, at art auctions for charities that began to be fashionable fund raising affairs for charities. I began to have more money and I bought some more art, only what I really liked. We moved to a bigger house and I had more walls to decorate, so I found more art to buy. I hasten to tell you that very little of this was investment quality –– still isn’t, but I like it.
When time came to move to Hanover Towers, I didn’t want to part with all my art, so I took as much as I could. My apartment is like a small gallery and I still enjoy it. Some of it I planned to ditch –– I had painted it during that year –– but my very tactful decorator insisted that I hang a few of my daubs, so they carry memories too.
And that’s how I developed a hobby, kept peace with my husband who went on sleeping Sunday afternoons away, and kept learning about a subject I had only read about when I was young.
If you’d like to start making art a hobby, or if you already are hooked, perhaps you’d like to join me at an art auction and bourbon–tasting with hors d’oeurves at Temple Adath Israel on Saturday, June 2, 7-9 p.m. All the art will be framed and donated, available for you to buy in a silent auction or just enjoy along with a drink and a bite. I ignored the invitation first, because I didn’t want to donate anything I own, but maybe I will and find a replacement for it in the auction. If you need information, call Laura Hopkins at (859) 269-1659.
Anyway, all the articles that tell you how to prepare for retirement, stress the importance of learning new things and developing a hobby. None of those have kept me young –– I’ve gotten old –– but I’m still functioning. I just didn’t know retirement would be so long.