I have always been an inveterate non joiner. I absolutely wouldn’t dream of joining any organisation that would have me, what are they? Scraping the barrel, or what?
This non joinering started at an early age with a leavering when I was drummed out of the Brownies aged eight for laughing at a passing up ceremony. The main reason I went to Brownies, the junior version of the Girl Guides, was that I was sent. Also there was a very good sweet shop next to the bus stop on the way back. Anyway for many months I tolerated with gritted teeth the group lessons on how to colour in a picture, with crayons, and the appalling team games and earnestly prayed that the whole kit and caboodle would be disbanded before I was forced to go camping. And then they had the flying up ceremony.
The Brownies in their little thin brown dresses and stupid hats stood in a circle round the square of plastic grass topped with the fibreglass toadstool complete with wonky cardboard owl that got brought out for special occasions. Adjacent to them the Girl Guides in their slightly more substantial blue skirts and blouses that still wouldn’t have got past Hardy Amies in a nightmare, stood in a horseshoe formation, round the floor. The little girl who was graduating listened while Brown Owl, the supposed adult in charge, said meaningful things. I wasn’t listening at all, I was wondering what to buy in the sweet shop and how long it would be before I could. So I was taken somewhat by surprise when the graduating Brownie took off from the grass and ran round both circles, flapping her arms. To my amazement she then approached two girl guides who were holding hands low down and jumped over, flapping in a more subdued manner so that they sustained only minor injuries. All this was done in the utmost seriousness and several of the smaller Brownies were on the verge of tears, moved by the glorious simplicity and no doubt dreaming of the day when they too would jump off some plastic grass and run round a room flapping their arms.
What can I tell you? I laughed so much as quietly as I was able that my ribs ached. The more they all frowned at me the more I laughed. Then Brown Owl put her finger to her lips, hushed me and hooted, and I burst into hysterics. Despite me, by now unable to stand for laughing, the ceremony continued and at the finish a Big Girl Guide and Brown Owl and some Official Guide Person took me to one side and HAD SERIOUS WORDS WITH ME. And then, when I still couldn’t stop laughing I was dismissed. So I went to the sweet shop and laughed all the way home on the bus.
I suppose the world should be grateful I never tried to join the Freemasons. I would never get further than rolling up my trouser leg before the hysterics set in. I continued to be subversive on the student magazine, where I had a column, and in assorted teacher’s groups. By the time I got to be a parent I had realised that I was better suited to doing my own thing. One holiday my son and I were so busy doing our own art thing at different ends of the dining table he missed the first two days of school because I forgot to send him back. And they knew I had been a teacher; I helped out in the school library.
So I don’t join things, mainly because it seems to upset them.
Nevertheless, I have joined AIM the association of Artisans in Miniature. I was asked and I do try to say yes if it’s free, legal and likely to help people. A big bonus is the lack of joining ceremony. THERE’S A FREE ONLINE MAGAZINE. Yes there is. All about miniatures. How to articles, picture features, all sorts. In glorious colour, downloadable and free free free. For joining I am supposed to write a bit for it because it’s written by members. So I will but don’t expect anything sensible. Meanwhile if you have been introduced to art in miniature through JaneLaverick.com and you’d like to see more please go to: www.Artisansinminiature.com and click on the bit in the header that says free AIM magazine.
Issues are monthly, I’ll tell you when they’re out and you’ll find a permanent link at the top of the links page.
Free magazine, how good a start is that to a Friday? And you don’t even have to flap your wings while you read it.
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