Bits

Christmas reminded me that somewhere in Manchester art gallery there is a bit of me, Its probably in the vaults now or the archive or whatever they do with unwanted paintings when they have finished with them. By bit I mean my hands, an artist whose name I can’t recall had been visiting schools to find a suitable model for his painting of an angel ascending to heaven.

I wasn’t to be the angel, just the hands. In fact he said, “you have the hands of an angel dear boy, but that head! Will never get of the ground” I wasn’t bothered by this remark, after all posing with a book in my hands for this bohemian got me out of lessons for two days. In any case my hands finished up in the painting, and I did on several occasions go to the art gallery to admire his work. I thought the best bit was the hands, but then I would.

So a bit of me if not all of me will ascend to heaven if only in a painting, it got me thinking that we all leave bits of ourselves all over the place, be it a painting, a drawing, a photograph or actual real bits.
We are all scattered around the world in one way or another, for instance, I left some nail clippings in Canada, a tooth in Turkey, some of my hair in Greece, some of my scalp and a bit of my arse in Africa.
The biggest bit my Gall bladder I left not that far away from me in North Manchester general hospital and I was well rid of it I can tell you.

These bits be they inanimate representations or tangible artefacts contain, as some North American Indians believe a part of our soul. Japanese soldiers before going of to war leave behind some nail clippings and hair for the family to bury should they not return. Have a think about it, if your like me your not complete, you are slowly falling apart and leaving human debre all over the world.