Painting a Cat

That evening The VeloDrone and Le Bon David went to the opening of the Our Mob exhibition.

They entered the Artspace, to be met with a grand explosion of colour largely composed of dots.

Dots, said Le Bon David. I used not to enjoy them as much as I do now.

Me too, agreed the VeloDrone. Do you think the artists have improved, or are we more discerning?

Both, perhaps, said Le Bon David. But look out there! They're serving wine and dips. And filled baguettes! And pies and sausage rolls! Let's go.

They went outside. A band played eighties music and people stood around talking, or sat at tables eating.

The speeches began. Auntie Josie gave a Welcome to Country. Then she said. It's so nice to be here and to see this lovely art. I wish I could paint, I couldn't paint a cat! Now all you people, remember to go home early, this is a bad place, especially that place over there. She waved in the direction of the casino.

A troupe of young boys danced the red kangaroo dance, the emu and the brolga dance, and the dingo dance, kicking up the red dust.

Afterwards The VeloDrone and Le Bon David found themselves standing next to Auntie Josie.

I enjoyed your speech, Auntie Josie, said The VeloDrone.

Thanks, said Auntie Josie.

You set the bar quite high, he went on. I note that none of the artists represented here has tried to paint a cat.

Auntie Josie laughed.

What would those fellers want to paint a cat for?