Admittedly, it's not the most well-taken photograph, but still. What would you expect from a sub-standard camera and a sub-standard photographer whose tired hands were covered with desiccated paint and who was struggling to keep her finger on the shutter, much less the focus on the subject.
But in any case, that's so not the point.
This picture makes me feel, first and foremost, proud. Of myself, of my junior CADs. Because it turned out better than we would have ever imagined, finished it in an efficient (though sweaty and colourful) fashion, and because we actually, honestly enjoyed ourselves. Or at least I did.
and well, first place didn't hurt that much either (:
and it makes me feel bitter. Because back then, when I was naive and oh-so hopeful, I actually thought that art was it. That art was it. The answer to my prayers, the note from the heavens, the sunshine to my evaporation, my slow gradual inevitable evaporation. and how it turned out to be after all, huh.
and last of all, nostalgic. where have all my banner-painting days gone to? With the squash courts all reconfigured, our little sanctuary of isolation and hidden trepidation is no more. Where will we spend hot afternoons dawdling through the labyrinth of life now? Tasting futures that we knew little about, sipping on death like we could?
All that is no more.
But if we look back now and feel sad, then that'll be something to be truly sorry about. Instead, here's a thumbs-up, to a job well done, a banner well hung, and a holiday worth archiving.
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