Friday, November 13, 2015
Sunday, August 09, 2015
Scott, Durham SC
Thursday, August 06, 2015
After my grandfather died, my aunt gave me some of his books, one of his paintings and a box of his paintbrushes. They went missing several years ago (other than the painting). The other day, I went into the local budget shop, and pulled a book of landscape painting off the shelf. Opening the front cover, I saw the name Alfred A. Young inscribed. My first thought was "how odd that somebody has the same name as my grandfather." Then I realized, this is one of his books that had been missing.
It has taken me a couple of days to get over the hurt of not having those books returned to me. Now I choose to treasure the book as a reminder of my grandfather, and am happy for his fingerprint in the form of the book and the return of one thing that had been his.
Wednesday, August 05, 2015
I don't labor over paintings. I breathe in and out. I ponder things, places and people. While my brain is doing this, my hand paints.
Tuesday, August 04, 2015
The other day, I played dinosaurs with my grandson, and then did a painting of dinosaurs in the trees, the way I've been painting fish into the branches of trees for years. So these themes evolve, too.
Liam brought me a plastic dinosaur and asked what kind it was. I looked on the underside of it to see if there was a name, but the only word there was CHINA. "Oh," I said, "this is a Chinasaur."