My father, Michael, led me through the little wooden house he’d filled with his paintings. “When I have an exhibition ...” he began, pointing to the artworks he’d created, before stopping. “Poor Pa,” I thought. In 1994 he got Parkinson’s Disease (帕金森氏病), which had shocked the whole family as he was only in his forties.
A husband and father to three, Pa had had a successful career running an advertising agency and had always been extremely creative. Outside of work, he’d spent 15 years fronting the cover band, Musical Chairs, which performed at the pub in Sydney’s Double Bay each week and, when I became a mother, he developed a very close bond with my daughter.
Even when his Parkinson’s advanced, my father decided he wanted to paint. “Why don’t you try classes?”my mum Louisa suggested to him. He agreed. In art lessons, the class practised painting still life objects, like pears, but my father had other ideas for his inspiration. He began producing abstract pieces, inspired by his favourite artist, Jackson Pollock, a leading abstract expressionist. “Why abstract?” I asked him. “Because,” he replied,“it helps us to see the world around us in a different way. You can look at these paintings and ask ‘what if?’”
Soon, I realized he was right. When I observed my father’s work, I could interpret each of them in many ways. Once he got started, he showed no signs of slowing down. The little house was quickly filled with more and more works.
But in 2019, Pa developed cancer and was given just three months to live. The thought of losing him was too much for any of my family to accept, but we soon received great news that a new form of treatment can help him greatly. Since he continued speaking about wanting to share his paintings with the world, I knew what had to be done.
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I told him I would help organize an exhibition.
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A month later, the big day finally came.
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