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."