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A Space Refuge in Time

 

Someone donated a house to be used by anyone who needed it for work. Surprisingly, sufficient money had also been put into a trust to cover bills. Lots were drawn and people would take it in turn in return for chores, including making food and working in the garden. 

It was an ongoing project, to be worked on and sorted out in lengthy weekly discussions over refreshments in the large kitchen. Core members formed a committee and handled all the applications from the local community. 


The vast cellars and the large drawing room with its parquet floor and huge windows overlooking the pond would be for music. The voluminous attic and South facing bedrooms would be for arts and crafts. There was much debate about noise and mess, but solutions were found with sound proofing and temporary partitions which could be painted over with white emulsion. Tarpaulin covers for floors were to be made available.

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The first taker was Ada. At least she called herself Ada, there was some debate about names and identity because some members of the committee said she didn't look like an Ada and they were made to try and describe what an Ada would look like. Despite their qualms, Ada got first dibs since she was old and might not last the year, plus her application was quite poignant really. Not a painter, she had often thought about it and would like the opportunity to work in a community and feel like an artist, even if only for a short while. 

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On arrival, she looked somewhat incongruous in an old man's overcoat, big chunky boots, wild stormy grey hair, carrying a tool box in one hand and an old battered wicker basket full of something covered by cloth. Pausing to greet everyone with a crooked, toothy smile, she asked if she could bring some props - a basket chair, some materials and a mirror to paint. The committee smiled back and nodded yes in unison. This was what an Ada looked like.

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In the room, Ada took on more the look of a Doris Lessing type, tying her hair back into a low bun and donning an old fashioned cross-over pinny with pockets from which, she would pull a little paper bag of coconut mushrooms  and proffer to any visitors, sometimes to their great delight, sometimes to their thinly disguised faint disgust, depending on the state of her hands and nails and the bag that day.  

                                             

But some were actually interested in her work. It was of a still life - the basket chair with colourful materials draped over and a full length mirror behind it propped against the wall. 

In her vague and broad brushed painted version, Ada, or Doris or whoever the visitor thought she was that day, was only slightly visible in the mirror. The chair and materials, so hard to paint, were merely indicated by colours and even they didn't match the ones upon the actual chair. It was clear to all, Adoris most especially, that, due to a combination of a lack of skill and a lack of trying to acquire any, the image was nothing like the real thing and looked on the way to being alot more interesting for it if everyone was completely honest surely ?


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