This place….

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An afternoon with Kenny and Stevie. Hiya Kenny. Hiya Darlin’. Kitchen cupboards in formica orange. I think its 1974 again. Cheery. Back gardens, washing on the lines. Cup of coffee and a chat. So yous movin ? To Fife I say. Drawings, guitar, how hard is a B minor chord, and the memory of his Dad singing a happy song as he mowed the grass. I ask to borrow a song for my book, something of his, and he sings a few lines, quietly. So, what makes a good painting ? Its having the eye , the way you see things, he says. He likes my drawings, thinks they say something. In walks Stevie, a cousin from London but now of Laurencekirk. Asks why I am here and we talk about favourite artists and carry on looking for the answer to what makes good art. Tours of Deeside, chaffeuring the rich and famous. Little dog curled up on my knee.The sea, caravan holidays and Montrose beach. I leave with more than I came with. As always in this place.

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