Page 18 of Trusting His Heart
Instead, he forced by common decency to hand over the seemingly inadequate flower pot with and express his own inadequate feelings, “You look beautiful.”
“I can’t believe the colors in all their work – so earthy yet bright,” Bec walked from painting to painting, dazed by the works from the Australian First Nation peoples. “I’ve never seen anything like these before – I don’t know what I expected.”
“You look like a kid in a candy store,” Geoffrey smiled, taking her hand as he lead her through the gallery entry.
“I don’t know what I expected, perhaps a couple of paintings and some painted digeridoos.”
“Sorry to disappoint, I’m promised tonight is a full cultural experience awash with raw pain and artistic celebration.”
“You are making that up – or you read it from the brochure,” Bec snuggled against him.
“The Professor is correct,” they were joined by a casually dressed man in his mid thirties, greying beard and long dark hair tied back into a bun. “Geoffrey, glad to see you. Please introduce me to the most beautiful woman in the world, I mean, the room.”
“Daku, your words flow as easily as your art,” Geoffrey hugged him, “Rebecca Garran, my good friend and curator of this event, Daku Freeman. He has agreed to give us a personal tour. This is his first event since coming back from the First Nations Curator Exchange program.”
“Miss Garran,” he kissed her hand, “I don’t know what you see in this old man …”
“Watch it,” Geoffrey chided, taking Bec’s hand back.
“Please call me, Bec, and thank you for offering to show us around.”
“Seriously, we are grateful to the Professor. Every year he is a generous benefactor of the gallery, but this is the first time he ever asked for a personal tour.”
“I’m impressed,” she turned to Geoffrey, “Surprised, and impressed.”
“I didn’t want to lose you to headsets and bar codes,” Geoffrey shrugged as Daku commenced the tour.
“Most of the works are on permanent display in local galleries across Australia. I had a vision of bringing the best from artists representing each language group and each of the first nations.” Daku introduced each artist’s work as a friend, unravelling the stories hidden in each piece.
“They are all magnificent,” Bec said as they moved towards the Torres Strait Islander exhibition. I love the bronzed sculptures – what are they?”
Daku smiled, “It’s a dugong – a large herbivore mammal that prefers to live in the shallow coastal waters.”
“It looks like a large seal,” Bec said, moving closer. “I can’t believe how intricate the carving is.”
“Seals are carnivorous and aren’t related, but the dugong is related to the seacow. The Torres Strait Islanders hunt them as part of their traditional life and for food but I’m glad to say that commercial fishing of them is banned.”
“They are beautiful,” she moved to the artefacts at the back wall.
“I’m glad you like them. Unfortunately, we were restricted by space. Many of our finer pieces are on permanent display in the main gallery.”
“Oh, Geoffrey,” she turned in excitement, “I think I’m asking for a second date!”
“If the Professor isn’t smart enough to accompany you, it would be my greatest pleasure,” Daku broke in.
“I think I can handle the lady’s request,” her body tingled as Geoffrey’s finger played with her palm.
“Whatever,” Daku laughed, “I’d be happy to show you lovebirds around, just in case Bec comes to her senses and decides to trade you in.”
“That head-dress looks like the ones worn by the Native Americans,” Bec noted.
Inspired by her interest, Geoffrey watched as Daku gave Bec a history lesson in American indigenous art before returning to the headdress. “Did you know that for First Nations peoples, including Inuit, Maori, Torres Strait and the Native Americans, headdresses are restricted items. Generally, they are even restricted within each culture to men as a recognition of specific achievement.”
“Sort of like students wearing a gown and at graduation?”
“I guess, if you want some sort of analogy. You wouldn’t go to a shop and buy a degree.”
“Some of my students probably wish they could – but what I hate are people of claim fake degrees when they get a job. I don’t even like it when my university gives out honorary doctorates. I worked bloody hard for mine,” Geoffrey grimaced.