For probably 15 months I have been ruminating about what to express in my painting regarding our involvement in Vietnam - technically a police action and factually a War. I wasnt born for WWII (though am the first of the baby boomers!) and so to me The War tends to mean the one I marched to oppose and then finally figuring out that that had no effect I joined up and provided a very ladylike contribution to the effort. I say very ladylike because in those days women could only be nurses or Madam WRAAFs - no flying no navigation no ATC oh no. One had always to be dressed ready to meet the Queen ERII whose commission I held. And of course at the very mention of Marriage, one had to resign ones commission and depart. THANK THE LORD those days have given way to equality (a semblance of same anyway) and opportunity. But from those close quarters one would have been a black jelly bean not to have seen and felt and known the long term effects on those medi-vaced back and returning. To me the hardest part I sensed was for guys leaving the war zone in the morning and arriving into home civilization in the afternoon. There was no passage of time as on a troop ship for example. So it is that that I want to paint because that was the experience of a great many young Queenslanders in the 60s. So... if I am quiet for a bit, I am ruminating - and hoping to do something justice.
Posted on: Sun, 04 May 2014 07:53:41 +0000
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