Young and Old

Boy1aHe’s just little. He fits in the palm of my hand. And for more than a decade he hung near my bed in the cottage we rented each summer. Each morning his face was the first one I saw upon waking; at night when I reached out to switch off the lamp there he’d be again, steadily gazing with calm, thoughtful eyes at something just beyond my left shoulder.

We only had that cottage for a week each summer, but I grew attached to my young friend. I didn’t know whether he’d been an actual person or simply the created illustration of an artist, and apart from a faint stamp on the cardboard backing of his frame that let me know he had been framed in Germany, I didn’t know exactly where or when he had been painted.


But when the owners of the cottage sold it and we spent our final week there, I was loathe to let him go. I asked if I could keep him, and the owners said I could, and he came home with me and here he sits now, with me in my writing room, his gaze now fixed behind me on another painted friend of mine.

FishermanThis other friend is older. Wiser. In our family he has always been "The Fisherman".

From the time that I was born, he hung together with his wife halfway along the corridor of my grandparents’ house. They had been painted so no matter where you stood, they were still looking at you. Every time we visited my grandparents my sister and I would spend several minutes in that corridor attempting to find some spot where the fisherman and his wife wouldn’t see us, but we never did.
 
You couldn’t pull one over on the fisherman.

When I was in my twenties and my grandfather had gone and we were packing up the house and its belongings so my grandmother could move to a retirement home, she let us take the things we wanted most.
 
I chose a few pieces of furniture, and several smaller things. I very nearly chose the fisherman, together with his wife, but I decided that they wouldn’t be the same if they weren’t in that house and I already had so many things, so in the end I let them go to auction.

Fisherman2Several years went by.
 
I’d married, and I had my first son in the stroller, killing time together at our local shopping mall. And once or twice a year, at our mall, there’s an antique fair with dealers who come set up stalls from all across Ontario. My son and I were strolling past the tables when I had the feeling I was being watched.

I was.

In one stall, not too far away, my fisherman was hanging with his wife. The dealer selling them was from the same part of the province where my grandparents had lived, but even if he hadn’t been there could be no mistaking. They were the exact same paintings.

Boy2aSo I bought them, and I brought them home, and hung them where it seems that they were meant to be.

And every day now, in my quiet writing room, the young boy gazes just past my left shoulder at the fisherman, who smiling looks right back at him.

I love them both. Do you have any painted friends in your house? Or have you had any item that you thought you’d lost come back to you?

165 thoughts on “Young and Old”

  1. I have several paintings I love in our house, but they aren’t of people. They are of flowers and landscapes. Photos we also have of grandchildren, but they aren’t paintings. I would love to see a discussion in this forum of the similarities and differences between photos and paintings of human subjects. I must say that I appreciate “representative art” much more than abstract. I like to be able to identify the subject of the art. That makes me unsophisticated, so I hear, but there you are. I like what I like.

    Reply
  2. I have several paintings I love in our house, but they aren’t of people. They are of flowers and landscapes. Photos we also have of grandchildren, but they aren’t paintings. I would love to see a discussion in this forum of the similarities and differences between photos and paintings of human subjects. I must say that I appreciate “representative art” much more than abstract. I like to be able to identify the subject of the art. That makes me unsophisticated, so I hear, but there you are. I like what I like.

    Reply
  3. I have several paintings I love in our house, but they aren’t of people. They are of flowers and landscapes. Photos we also have of grandchildren, but they aren’t paintings. I would love to see a discussion in this forum of the similarities and differences between photos and paintings of human subjects. I must say that I appreciate “representative art” much more than abstract. I like to be able to identify the subject of the art. That makes me unsophisticated, so I hear, but there you are. I like what I like.

    Reply
  4. I have several paintings I love in our house, but they aren’t of people. They are of flowers and landscapes. Photos we also have of grandchildren, but they aren’t paintings. I would love to see a discussion in this forum of the similarities and differences between photos and paintings of human subjects. I must say that I appreciate “representative art” much more than abstract. I like to be able to identify the subject of the art. That makes me unsophisticated, so I hear, but there you are. I like what I like.

    Reply
  5. I have several paintings I love in our house, but they aren’t of people. They are of flowers and landscapes. Photos we also have of grandchildren, but they aren’t paintings. I would love to see a discussion in this forum of the similarities and differences between photos and paintings of human subjects. I must say that I appreciate “representative art” much more than abstract. I like to be able to identify the subject of the art. That makes me unsophisticated, so I hear, but there you are. I like what I like.

    Reply
  6. I do. I have a small piece of fan art from an sf con of Rachel, the artificial girl from Blade Runner, in her futuristic silk suit, looking out at me, with her bold red mouth and sad eyes. Who am I? she seems to say. Where do I belong? What will they do with me next? Is pretty all I am? What will they do with me when I’m not pretty anymore?
    Other framed paintings and photos I have show people with smiles for the camera, or exploding buses, or whatever amused them, but not Rachel. She sits there, touching one finger in an uncertain gesture, staring out at the world, with a childlike look of doubt on her face. She seems more real than any of them.

    Reply
  7. I do. I have a small piece of fan art from an sf con of Rachel, the artificial girl from Blade Runner, in her futuristic silk suit, looking out at me, with her bold red mouth and sad eyes. Who am I? she seems to say. Where do I belong? What will they do with me next? Is pretty all I am? What will they do with me when I’m not pretty anymore?
    Other framed paintings and photos I have show people with smiles for the camera, or exploding buses, or whatever amused them, but not Rachel. She sits there, touching one finger in an uncertain gesture, staring out at the world, with a childlike look of doubt on her face. She seems more real than any of them.

    Reply
  8. I do. I have a small piece of fan art from an sf con of Rachel, the artificial girl from Blade Runner, in her futuristic silk suit, looking out at me, with her bold red mouth and sad eyes. Who am I? she seems to say. Where do I belong? What will they do with me next? Is pretty all I am? What will they do with me when I’m not pretty anymore?
    Other framed paintings and photos I have show people with smiles for the camera, or exploding buses, or whatever amused them, but not Rachel. She sits there, touching one finger in an uncertain gesture, staring out at the world, with a childlike look of doubt on her face. She seems more real than any of them.

    Reply
  9. I do. I have a small piece of fan art from an sf con of Rachel, the artificial girl from Blade Runner, in her futuristic silk suit, looking out at me, with her bold red mouth and sad eyes. Who am I? she seems to say. Where do I belong? What will they do with me next? Is pretty all I am? What will they do with me when I’m not pretty anymore?
    Other framed paintings and photos I have show people with smiles for the camera, or exploding buses, or whatever amused them, but not Rachel. She sits there, touching one finger in an uncertain gesture, staring out at the world, with a childlike look of doubt on her face. She seems more real than any of them.

    Reply
  10. I do. I have a small piece of fan art from an sf con of Rachel, the artificial girl from Blade Runner, in her futuristic silk suit, looking out at me, with her bold red mouth and sad eyes. Who am I? she seems to say. Where do I belong? What will they do with me next? Is pretty all I am? What will they do with me when I’m not pretty anymore?
    Other framed paintings and photos I have show people with smiles for the camera, or exploding buses, or whatever amused them, but not Rachel. She sits there, touching one finger in an uncertain gesture, staring out at the world, with a childlike look of doubt on her face. She seems more real than any of them.

    Reply
  11. Kathy, if that makes you unsophisticated, then I guess I’m unsophisticated too 🙂 And a discussion of photos and painted portraits would, I agree, be an interesting one. Both, when done well, can capture the absolute essence of their subject. I love the photographs of Yousuf Karsh, for example, because he just knew the EXACT moment to snap the shutter. And I’m always fascinated by self-portraits painted by artists, because it’s a rare chance to see the person on the other side of the brush.

    Reply
  12. Kathy, if that makes you unsophisticated, then I guess I’m unsophisticated too 🙂 And a discussion of photos and painted portraits would, I agree, be an interesting one. Both, when done well, can capture the absolute essence of their subject. I love the photographs of Yousuf Karsh, for example, because he just knew the EXACT moment to snap the shutter. And I’m always fascinated by self-portraits painted by artists, because it’s a rare chance to see the person on the other side of the brush.

    Reply
  13. Kathy, if that makes you unsophisticated, then I guess I’m unsophisticated too 🙂 And a discussion of photos and painted portraits would, I agree, be an interesting one. Both, when done well, can capture the absolute essence of their subject. I love the photographs of Yousuf Karsh, for example, because he just knew the EXACT moment to snap the shutter. And I’m always fascinated by self-portraits painted by artists, because it’s a rare chance to see the person on the other side of the brush.

    Reply
  14. Kathy, if that makes you unsophisticated, then I guess I’m unsophisticated too 🙂 And a discussion of photos and painted portraits would, I agree, be an interesting one. Both, when done well, can capture the absolute essence of their subject. I love the photographs of Yousuf Karsh, for example, because he just knew the EXACT moment to snap the shutter. And I’m always fascinated by self-portraits painted by artists, because it’s a rare chance to see the person on the other side of the brush.

    Reply
  15. Kathy, if that makes you unsophisticated, then I guess I’m unsophisticated too 🙂 And a discussion of photos and painted portraits would, I agree, be an interesting one. Both, when done well, can capture the absolute essence of their subject. I love the photographs of Yousuf Karsh, for example, because he just knew the EXACT moment to snap the shutter. And I’m always fascinated by self-portraits painted by artists, because it’s a rare chance to see the person on the other side of the brush.

    Reply
  16. What a wonderful story, Susanna! Now I want to see the Fisherman’s wife!
    I have a picture in a very elaborately carved oval frame. Very Victorian sentimental–a St. Bernard holds a basket in his mouth and in the basket is a cute little kitten. My father found it at an auction, my older brother painted the carved frame gold, and it’s been with me ever since, which is a very, very long time…

    Reply
  17. What a wonderful story, Susanna! Now I want to see the Fisherman’s wife!
    I have a picture in a very elaborately carved oval frame. Very Victorian sentimental–a St. Bernard holds a basket in his mouth and in the basket is a cute little kitten. My father found it at an auction, my older brother painted the carved frame gold, and it’s been with me ever since, which is a very, very long time…

    Reply
  18. What a wonderful story, Susanna! Now I want to see the Fisherman’s wife!
    I have a picture in a very elaborately carved oval frame. Very Victorian sentimental–a St. Bernard holds a basket in his mouth and in the basket is a cute little kitten. My father found it at an auction, my older brother painted the carved frame gold, and it’s been with me ever since, which is a very, very long time…

    Reply
  19. What a wonderful story, Susanna! Now I want to see the Fisherman’s wife!
    I have a picture in a very elaborately carved oval frame. Very Victorian sentimental–a St. Bernard holds a basket in his mouth and in the basket is a cute little kitten. My father found it at an auction, my older brother painted the carved frame gold, and it’s been with me ever since, which is a very, very long time…

    Reply
  20. What a wonderful story, Susanna! Now I want to see the Fisherman’s wife!
    I have a picture in a very elaborately carved oval frame. Very Victorian sentimental–a St. Bernard holds a basket in his mouth and in the basket is a cute little kitten. My father found it at an auction, my older brother painted the carved frame gold, and it’s been with me ever since, which is a very, very long time…

    Reply
  21. I had to look it up. I didn’t realise that Suzanna’s little boy was Prince Octavius although I was aware of King George III’s quote about heaven and Octavius.

    Reply
  22. I had to look it up. I didn’t realise that Suzanna’s little boy was Prince Octavius although I was aware of King George III’s quote about heaven and Octavius.

    Reply
  23. I had to look it up. I didn’t realise that Suzanna’s little boy was Prince Octavius although I was aware of King George III’s quote about heaven and Octavius.

    Reply
  24. I had to look it up. I didn’t realise that Suzanna’s little boy was Prince Octavius although I was aware of King George III’s quote about heaven and Octavius.

    Reply
  25. I had to look it up. I didn’t realise that Suzanna’s little boy was Prince Octavius although I was aware of King George III’s quote about heaven and Octavius.

    Reply
  26. I don’t have a favorite portrait right now. (There is a favorite landscape from mu childhood that hangs at the top of our entrance stairs.)
    But when I was growing up my parents saw a painting a a court gentleman — rather like the dutch school paintings — that hung in the livingroom. I don’t believe it was a copy of one of the great masters, just an anonymous painting “in the style of… .” My sister and I thought that the subject looked very much like my father, and we called him the Ancestor. I’m not sure what happened to him when my mother left that housel.

    Reply
  27. I don’t have a favorite portrait right now. (There is a favorite landscape from mu childhood that hangs at the top of our entrance stairs.)
    But when I was growing up my parents saw a painting a a court gentleman — rather like the dutch school paintings — that hung in the livingroom. I don’t believe it was a copy of one of the great masters, just an anonymous painting “in the style of… .” My sister and I thought that the subject looked very much like my father, and we called him the Ancestor. I’m not sure what happened to him when my mother left that housel.

    Reply
  28. I don’t have a favorite portrait right now. (There is a favorite landscape from mu childhood that hangs at the top of our entrance stairs.)
    But when I was growing up my parents saw a painting a a court gentleman — rather like the dutch school paintings — that hung in the livingroom. I don’t believe it was a copy of one of the great masters, just an anonymous painting “in the style of… .” My sister and I thought that the subject looked very much like my father, and we called him the Ancestor. I’m not sure what happened to him when my mother left that housel.

    Reply
  29. I don’t have a favorite portrait right now. (There is a favorite landscape from mu childhood that hangs at the top of our entrance stairs.)
    But when I was growing up my parents saw a painting a a court gentleman — rather like the dutch school paintings — that hung in the livingroom. I don’t believe it was a copy of one of the great masters, just an anonymous painting “in the style of… .” My sister and I thought that the subject looked very much like my father, and we called him the Ancestor. I’m not sure what happened to him when my mother left that housel.

    Reply
  30. I don’t have a favorite portrait right now. (There is a favorite landscape from mu childhood that hangs at the top of our entrance stairs.)
    But when I was growing up my parents saw a painting a a court gentleman — rather like the dutch school paintings — that hung in the livingroom. I don’t believe it was a copy of one of the great masters, just an anonymous painting “in the style of… .” My sister and I thought that the subject looked very much like my father, and we called him the Ancestor. I’m not sure what happened to him when my mother left that housel.

    Reply
  31. Mine is a painting of a young Navajo girl—maybe three or four years old—gripping a large, scraggly, belly-out gray cat. She’s looking suspiciously, almost glaringly, up at the viewer, while the cat looks frantically off to the side (”Get me out of here,”). I’m so fascinated by them that I hung the painting on the door of my bedroom. I can’t go in or out of the room without paying homage to my little gatekeeper.

    Reply
  32. Mine is a painting of a young Navajo girl—maybe three or four years old—gripping a large, scraggly, belly-out gray cat. She’s looking suspiciously, almost glaringly, up at the viewer, while the cat looks frantically off to the side (”Get me out of here,”). I’m so fascinated by them that I hung the painting on the door of my bedroom. I can’t go in or out of the room without paying homage to my little gatekeeper.

    Reply
  33. Mine is a painting of a young Navajo girl—maybe three or four years old—gripping a large, scraggly, belly-out gray cat. She’s looking suspiciously, almost glaringly, up at the viewer, while the cat looks frantically off to the side (”Get me out of here,”). I’m so fascinated by them that I hung the painting on the door of my bedroom. I can’t go in or out of the room without paying homage to my little gatekeeper.

    Reply
  34. Mine is a painting of a young Navajo girl—maybe three or four years old—gripping a large, scraggly, belly-out gray cat. She’s looking suspiciously, almost glaringly, up at the viewer, while the cat looks frantically off to the side (”Get me out of here,”). I’m so fascinated by them that I hung the painting on the door of my bedroom. I can’t go in or out of the room without paying homage to my little gatekeeper.

    Reply
  35. Mine is a painting of a young Navajo girl—maybe three or four years old—gripping a large, scraggly, belly-out gray cat. She’s looking suspiciously, almost glaringly, up at the viewer, while the cat looks frantically off to the side (”Get me out of here,”). I’m so fascinated by them that I hung the painting on the door of my bedroom. I can’t go in or out of the room without paying homage to my little gatekeeper.

    Reply
  36. Mine is an old print of “Handsome Jack” John Hayes St. Leger by Gainsborough (not the Reynolds one). I’ve hung that on every business wall I’ve worked in. I also scanned it and made it into wallpaper for my computer. Whenever I read about rakes in romance I always look at him, because he was a real one.

    Reply
  37. Mine is an old print of “Handsome Jack” John Hayes St. Leger by Gainsborough (not the Reynolds one). I’ve hung that on every business wall I’ve worked in. I also scanned it and made it into wallpaper for my computer. Whenever I read about rakes in romance I always look at him, because he was a real one.

    Reply
  38. Mine is an old print of “Handsome Jack” John Hayes St. Leger by Gainsborough (not the Reynolds one). I’ve hung that on every business wall I’ve worked in. I also scanned it and made it into wallpaper for my computer. Whenever I read about rakes in romance I always look at him, because he was a real one.

    Reply
  39. Mine is an old print of “Handsome Jack” John Hayes St. Leger by Gainsborough (not the Reynolds one). I’ve hung that on every business wall I’ve worked in. I also scanned it and made it into wallpaper for my computer. Whenever I read about rakes in romance I always look at him, because he was a real one.

    Reply
  40. Mine is an old print of “Handsome Jack” John Hayes St. Leger by Gainsborough (not the Reynolds one). I’ve hung that on every business wall I’ve worked in. I also scanned it and made it into wallpaper for my computer. Whenever I read about rakes in romance I always look at him, because he was a real one.

    Reply
  41. I have no paintings of people that I can meet eye to eye. LOL I have a print of Monet’s “Towing of a boat at Honfluer” which has some little men in it but they are faceless. I also have a gorgeous Leonid Afremov painting “Spirits by the Lake” and those people are faceless too. Other than that my artworks are of pianos and beaches and landscapes. I guess I want to imagine the people in there…not actually have them looking out at me. LOL I love your fisherman story. That painting was meant for you.

    Reply
  42. I have no paintings of people that I can meet eye to eye. LOL I have a print of Monet’s “Towing of a boat at Honfluer” which has some little men in it but they are faceless. I also have a gorgeous Leonid Afremov painting “Spirits by the Lake” and those people are faceless too. Other than that my artworks are of pianos and beaches and landscapes. I guess I want to imagine the people in there…not actually have them looking out at me. LOL I love your fisherman story. That painting was meant for you.

    Reply
  43. I have no paintings of people that I can meet eye to eye. LOL I have a print of Monet’s “Towing of a boat at Honfluer” which has some little men in it but they are faceless. I also have a gorgeous Leonid Afremov painting “Spirits by the Lake” and those people are faceless too. Other than that my artworks are of pianos and beaches and landscapes. I guess I want to imagine the people in there…not actually have them looking out at me. LOL I love your fisherman story. That painting was meant for you.

    Reply
  44. I have no paintings of people that I can meet eye to eye. LOL I have a print of Monet’s “Towing of a boat at Honfluer” which has some little men in it but they are faceless. I also have a gorgeous Leonid Afremov painting “Spirits by the Lake” and those people are faceless too. Other than that my artworks are of pianos and beaches and landscapes. I guess I want to imagine the people in there…not actually have them looking out at me. LOL I love your fisherman story. That painting was meant for you.

    Reply
  45. I have no paintings of people that I can meet eye to eye. LOL I have a print of Monet’s “Towing of a boat at Honfluer” which has some little men in it but they are faceless. I also have a gorgeous Leonid Afremov painting “Spirits by the Lake” and those people are faceless too. Other than that my artworks are of pianos and beaches and landscapes. I guess I want to imagine the people in there…not actually have them looking out at me. LOL I love your fisherman story. That painting was meant for you.

    Reply
  46. I have a lot of art on my walls. Some I love more than others and all are things which spoke to me when I got them. I had to start over in my life, so I found art where I could. My favorite – a drawing of a woman – it looks like something Leonardo would have done, pretty sure he didn’t. I have a large oil painting of a yacht in a race – it is an old yacht with sails. I have a pastel of two young women on a picnic in lovely gowns and wonderful straw hats. I have drawings of flowers, a drawing of a house which looks like something from Revolutionary times. And I have movie posters, some lobby cards – Shirley Temple, Betty Davis, Wizard of Oz and Frederick March and two large posters, Charlie Chaplin and the Marx Brothers. I have more – as I say, I have stuff everywhere. I like to believe I have eclectic tastes, but in reality it simply means, I love things which touch me and make me smile.
    Smiling in life is very underrated.

    Reply
  47. I have a lot of art on my walls. Some I love more than others and all are things which spoke to me when I got them. I had to start over in my life, so I found art where I could. My favorite – a drawing of a woman – it looks like something Leonardo would have done, pretty sure he didn’t. I have a large oil painting of a yacht in a race – it is an old yacht with sails. I have a pastel of two young women on a picnic in lovely gowns and wonderful straw hats. I have drawings of flowers, a drawing of a house which looks like something from Revolutionary times. And I have movie posters, some lobby cards – Shirley Temple, Betty Davis, Wizard of Oz and Frederick March and two large posters, Charlie Chaplin and the Marx Brothers. I have more – as I say, I have stuff everywhere. I like to believe I have eclectic tastes, but in reality it simply means, I love things which touch me and make me smile.
    Smiling in life is very underrated.

    Reply
  48. I have a lot of art on my walls. Some I love more than others and all are things which spoke to me when I got them. I had to start over in my life, so I found art where I could. My favorite – a drawing of a woman – it looks like something Leonardo would have done, pretty sure he didn’t. I have a large oil painting of a yacht in a race – it is an old yacht with sails. I have a pastel of two young women on a picnic in lovely gowns and wonderful straw hats. I have drawings of flowers, a drawing of a house which looks like something from Revolutionary times. And I have movie posters, some lobby cards – Shirley Temple, Betty Davis, Wizard of Oz and Frederick March and two large posters, Charlie Chaplin and the Marx Brothers. I have more – as I say, I have stuff everywhere. I like to believe I have eclectic tastes, but in reality it simply means, I love things which touch me and make me smile.
    Smiling in life is very underrated.

    Reply
  49. I have a lot of art on my walls. Some I love more than others and all are things which spoke to me when I got them. I had to start over in my life, so I found art where I could. My favorite – a drawing of a woman – it looks like something Leonardo would have done, pretty sure he didn’t. I have a large oil painting of a yacht in a race – it is an old yacht with sails. I have a pastel of two young women on a picnic in lovely gowns and wonderful straw hats. I have drawings of flowers, a drawing of a house which looks like something from Revolutionary times. And I have movie posters, some lobby cards – Shirley Temple, Betty Davis, Wizard of Oz and Frederick March and two large posters, Charlie Chaplin and the Marx Brothers. I have more – as I say, I have stuff everywhere. I like to believe I have eclectic tastes, but in reality it simply means, I love things which touch me and make me smile.
    Smiling in life is very underrated.

    Reply
  50. I have a lot of art on my walls. Some I love more than others and all are things which spoke to me when I got them. I had to start over in my life, so I found art where I could. My favorite – a drawing of a woman – it looks like something Leonardo would have done, pretty sure he didn’t. I have a large oil painting of a yacht in a race – it is an old yacht with sails. I have a pastel of two young women on a picnic in lovely gowns and wonderful straw hats. I have drawings of flowers, a drawing of a house which looks like something from Revolutionary times. And I have movie posters, some lobby cards – Shirley Temple, Betty Davis, Wizard of Oz and Frederick March and two large posters, Charlie Chaplin and the Marx Brothers. I have more – as I say, I have stuff everywhere. I like to believe I have eclectic tastes, but in reality it simply means, I love things which touch me and make me smile.
    Smiling in life is very underrated.

    Reply
  51. I don’t like paintings with people in them. (I’m a bit of an odd ball)! One I love hanging in my hall is just a cheap thing that caught my eye in a local shop one day. It’s one of those ones that looks 3D. It’a a stream with a little cottage beside it and it has a water wheel on the end of the house. There’s a garden and a small foot bridge too. It’s full of colour. I call it my ‘running away to place’ because it’s where I’d love to be when things get tough (as they have the last couple of years).
    Funny how something just grabs you.

    Reply
  52. I don’t like paintings with people in them. (I’m a bit of an odd ball)! One I love hanging in my hall is just a cheap thing that caught my eye in a local shop one day. It’s one of those ones that looks 3D. It’a a stream with a little cottage beside it and it has a water wheel on the end of the house. There’s a garden and a small foot bridge too. It’s full of colour. I call it my ‘running away to place’ because it’s where I’d love to be when things get tough (as they have the last couple of years).
    Funny how something just grabs you.

    Reply
  53. I don’t like paintings with people in them. (I’m a bit of an odd ball)! One I love hanging in my hall is just a cheap thing that caught my eye in a local shop one day. It’s one of those ones that looks 3D. It’a a stream with a little cottage beside it and it has a water wheel on the end of the house. There’s a garden and a small foot bridge too. It’s full of colour. I call it my ‘running away to place’ because it’s where I’d love to be when things get tough (as they have the last couple of years).
    Funny how something just grabs you.

    Reply
  54. I don’t like paintings with people in them. (I’m a bit of an odd ball)! One I love hanging in my hall is just a cheap thing that caught my eye in a local shop one day. It’s one of those ones that looks 3D. It’a a stream with a little cottage beside it and it has a water wheel on the end of the house. There’s a garden and a small foot bridge too. It’s full of colour. I call it my ‘running away to place’ because it’s where I’d love to be when things get tough (as they have the last couple of years).
    Funny how something just grabs you.

    Reply
  55. I don’t like paintings with people in them. (I’m a bit of an odd ball)! One I love hanging in my hall is just a cheap thing that caught my eye in a local shop one day. It’s one of those ones that looks 3D. It’a a stream with a little cottage beside it and it has a water wheel on the end of the house. There’s a garden and a small foot bridge too. It’s full of colour. I call it my ‘running away to place’ because it’s where I’d love to be when things get tough (as they have the last couple of years).
    Funny how something just grabs you.

    Reply
  56. What a wonderful story, Susanna. I have a feeling he and his wife had been looking for you . . . how wonderful that you found each other.
    My painted friends are some of the beautiful bird watercolors that my late mother painted. I had watched her working on them in her studio, so every time I pass by them (a bold crow staring straight out of the paper, a seagull hunched against the sea breeze) they make me smile, not just for their artistic flair but because my mother is there in spirit.

    Reply
  57. What a wonderful story, Susanna. I have a feeling he and his wife had been looking for you . . . how wonderful that you found each other.
    My painted friends are some of the beautiful bird watercolors that my late mother painted. I had watched her working on them in her studio, so every time I pass by them (a bold crow staring straight out of the paper, a seagull hunched against the sea breeze) they make me smile, not just for their artistic flair but because my mother is there in spirit.

    Reply
  58. What a wonderful story, Susanna. I have a feeling he and his wife had been looking for you . . . how wonderful that you found each other.
    My painted friends are some of the beautiful bird watercolors that my late mother painted. I had watched her working on them in her studio, so every time I pass by them (a bold crow staring straight out of the paper, a seagull hunched against the sea breeze) they make me smile, not just for their artistic flair but because my mother is there in spirit.

    Reply
  59. What a wonderful story, Susanna. I have a feeling he and his wife had been looking for you . . . how wonderful that you found each other.
    My painted friends are some of the beautiful bird watercolors that my late mother painted. I had watched her working on them in her studio, so every time I pass by them (a bold crow staring straight out of the paper, a seagull hunched against the sea breeze) they make me smile, not just for their artistic flair but because my mother is there in spirit.

    Reply
  60. What a wonderful story, Susanna. I have a feeling he and his wife had been looking for you . . . how wonderful that you found each other.
    My painted friends are some of the beautiful bird watercolors that my late mother painted. I had watched her working on them in her studio, so every time I pass by them (a bold crow staring straight out of the paper, a seagull hunched against the sea breeze) they make me smile, not just for their artistic flair but because my mother is there in spirit.

    Reply
  61. We have several pictures – many of them are of animals – a “Once in a Blue Moon Unicorn”, a baby penguin, a fawn, etc. Recently I have purchased several bright watercolors of roosters from a North Carolina artist named Michael Haun – guess why he paints roosters? I like his work more for the captions he puts on them. One of my favorites is of chicks clustered around a country mailbox with the rooster who says “I can get you stamps but your mother is going to want to know where you are headed.” My husband’s uncle was a professional photographer and we have a stylized picture of Bill as a child of perhaps 8 or so standing with his hand on a floor globe. To match it we bought a picture by Norman Rockwell of a young red-headed girl in braids with a black eye and a grin waiting to be seen by the school principal. That would be me.

    Reply
  62. We have several pictures – many of them are of animals – a “Once in a Blue Moon Unicorn”, a baby penguin, a fawn, etc. Recently I have purchased several bright watercolors of roosters from a North Carolina artist named Michael Haun – guess why he paints roosters? I like his work more for the captions he puts on them. One of my favorites is of chicks clustered around a country mailbox with the rooster who says “I can get you stamps but your mother is going to want to know where you are headed.” My husband’s uncle was a professional photographer and we have a stylized picture of Bill as a child of perhaps 8 or so standing with his hand on a floor globe. To match it we bought a picture by Norman Rockwell of a young red-headed girl in braids with a black eye and a grin waiting to be seen by the school principal. That would be me.

    Reply
  63. We have several pictures – many of them are of animals – a “Once in a Blue Moon Unicorn”, a baby penguin, a fawn, etc. Recently I have purchased several bright watercolors of roosters from a North Carolina artist named Michael Haun – guess why he paints roosters? I like his work more for the captions he puts on them. One of my favorites is of chicks clustered around a country mailbox with the rooster who says “I can get you stamps but your mother is going to want to know where you are headed.” My husband’s uncle was a professional photographer and we have a stylized picture of Bill as a child of perhaps 8 or so standing with his hand on a floor globe. To match it we bought a picture by Norman Rockwell of a young red-headed girl in braids with a black eye and a grin waiting to be seen by the school principal. That would be me.

    Reply
  64. We have several pictures – many of them are of animals – a “Once in a Blue Moon Unicorn”, a baby penguin, a fawn, etc. Recently I have purchased several bright watercolors of roosters from a North Carolina artist named Michael Haun – guess why he paints roosters? I like his work more for the captions he puts on them. One of my favorites is of chicks clustered around a country mailbox with the rooster who says “I can get you stamps but your mother is going to want to know where you are headed.” My husband’s uncle was a professional photographer and we have a stylized picture of Bill as a child of perhaps 8 or so standing with his hand on a floor globe. To match it we bought a picture by Norman Rockwell of a young red-headed girl in braids with a black eye and a grin waiting to be seen by the school principal. That would be me.

    Reply
  65. We have several pictures – many of them are of animals – a “Once in a Blue Moon Unicorn”, a baby penguin, a fawn, etc. Recently I have purchased several bright watercolors of roosters from a North Carolina artist named Michael Haun – guess why he paints roosters? I like his work more for the captions he puts on them. One of my favorites is of chicks clustered around a country mailbox with the rooster who says “I can get you stamps but your mother is going to want to know where you are headed.” My husband’s uncle was a professional photographer and we have a stylized picture of Bill as a child of perhaps 8 or so standing with his hand on a floor globe. To match it we bought a picture by Norman Rockwell of a young red-headed girl in braids with a black eye and a grin waiting to be seen by the school principal. That would be me.

    Reply
  66. I love Mary Cassatt’s paintings of children. I have prints of two–Children Playing on the Beach and Child in a Straw Hat–because they are particularly meaningful to me. A print of the first hung on the wall of an aunt’s living room for years, and when I was very small, I thought the two little girls were my sister and I. I paired the second with a photograph that I call “My First Feminist Moment.” It shows all the girl cousins except for me posing in pretty dresses and smiling faces at a family reunion. I am in the front row with a distinct glower. I was angry because the boy cousins had been allowed to change into play clothes and take off for the woods while we had to stay in “Sunday clothes” to be embraced and compared by assorted relatives. I always feel as if Cassatt’s little girl frowning in her too-big hat is a kindred spirit to the girl that I was.
    I also cherish an original pen-and-ink drawing of the author Carson McCullers, obviously troubled, that I put with a photograph of the original Broadway production of The Member of the Wedding with Ethel Waters, Julie Harris, and a very young Brandon deWilde and my favorite quote from the novel/play “She was afraid of these things that made her suddenly wonder who she was, and what she was going to be in the world, and why she was standing at that minute, seeing a light, or listening, or staring up into the sky: alone.” I bought the drawing and photograph at a sale of memorabilia one of my grad school professors had collected as she worked on a biography of McCullers. So the grouping reminds me of my academic field (Southern literature), a favorite author, a favorite work and a fascinating teacher.

    Reply
  67. I love Mary Cassatt’s paintings of children. I have prints of two–Children Playing on the Beach and Child in a Straw Hat–because they are particularly meaningful to me. A print of the first hung on the wall of an aunt’s living room for years, and when I was very small, I thought the two little girls were my sister and I. I paired the second with a photograph that I call “My First Feminist Moment.” It shows all the girl cousins except for me posing in pretty dresses and smiling faces at a family reunion. I am in the front row with a distinct glower. I was angry because the boy cousins had been allowed to change into play clothes and take off for the woods while we had to stay in “Sunday clothes” to be embraced and compared by assorted relatives. I always feel as if Cassatt’s little girl frowning in her too-big hat is a kindred spirit to the girl that I was.
    I also cherish an original pen-and-ink drawing of the author Carson McCullers, obviously troubled, that I put with a photograph of the original Broadway production of The Member of the Wedding with Ethel Waters, Julie Harris, and a very young Brandon deWilde and my favorite quote from the novel/play “She was afraid of these things that made her suddenly wonder who she was, and what she was going to be in the world, and why she was standing at that minute, seeing a light, or listening, or staring up into the sky: alone.” I bought the drawing and photograph at a sale of memorabilia one of my grad school professors had collected as she worked on a biography of McCullers. So the grouping reminds me of my academic field (Southern literature), a favorite author, a favorite work and a fascinating teacher.

    Reply
  68. I love Mary Cassatt’s paintings of children. I have prints of two–Children Playing on the Beach and Child in a Straw Hat–because they are particularly meaningful to me. A print of the first hung on the wall of an aunt’s living room for years, and when I was very small, I thought the two little girls were my sister and I. I paired the second with a photograph that I call “My First Feminist Moment.” It shows all the girl cousins except for me posing in pretty dresses and smiling faces at a family reunion. I am in the front row with a distinct glower. I was angry because the boy cousins had been allowed to change into play clothes and take off for the woods while we had to stay in “Sunday clothes” to be embraced and compared by assorted relatives. I always feel as if Cassatt’s little girl frowning in her too-big hat is a kindred spirit to the girl that I was.
    I also cherish an original pen-and-ink drawing of the author Carson McCullers, obviously troubled, that I put with a photograph of the original Broadway production of The Member of the Wedding with Ethel Waters, Julie Harris, and a very young Brandon deWilde and my favorite quote from the novel/play “She was afraid of these things that made her suddenly wonder who she was, and what she was going to be in the world, and why she was standing at that minute, seeing a light, or listening, or staring up into the sky: alone.” I bought the drawing and photograph at a sale of memorabilia one of my grad school professors had collected as she worked on a biography of McCullers. So the grouping reminds me of my academic field (Southern literature), a favorite author, a favorite work and a fascinating teacher.

    Reply
  69. I love Mary Cassatt’s paintings of children. I have prints of two–Children Playing on the Beach and Child in a Straw Hat–because they are particularly meaningful to me. A print of the first hung on the wall of an aunt’s living room for years, and when I was very small, I thought the two little girls were my sister and I. I paired the second with a photograph that I call “My First Feminist Moment.” It shows all the girl cousins except for me posing in pretty dresses and smiling faces at a family reunion. I am in the front row with a distinct glower. I was angry because the boy cousins had been allowed to change into play clothes and take off for the woods while we had to stay in “Sunday clothes” to be embraced and compared by assorted relatives. I always feel as if Cassatt’s little girl frowning in her too-big hat is a kindred spirit to the girl that I was.
    I also cherish an original pen-and-ink drawing of the author Carson McCullers, obviously troubled, that I put with a photograph of the original Broadway production of The Member of the Wedding with Ethel Waters, Julie Harris, and a very young Brandon deWilde and my favorite quote from the novel/play “She was afraid of these things that made her suddenly wonder who she was, and what she was going to be in the world, and why she was standing at that minute, seeing a light, or listening, or staring up into the sky: alone.” I bought the drawing and photograph at a sale of memorabilia one of my grad school professors had collected as she worked on a biography of McCullers. So the grouping reminds me of my academic field (Southern literature), a favorite author, a favorite work and a fascinating teacher.

    Reply
  70. I love Mary Cassatt’s paintings of children. I have prints of two–Children Playing on the Beach and Child in a Straw Hat–because they are particularly meaningful to me. A print of the first hung on the wall of an aunt’s living room for years, and when I was very small, I thought the two little girls were my sister and I. I paired the second with a photograph that I call “My First Feminist Moment.” It shows all the girl cousins except for me posing in pretty dresses and smiling faces at a family reunion. I am in the front row with a distinct glower. I was angry because the boy cousins had been allowed to change into play clothes and take off for the woods while we had to stay in “Sunday clothes” to be embraced and compared by assorted relatives. I always feel as if Cassatt’s little girl frowning in her too-big hat is a kindred spirit to the girl that I was.
    I also cherish an original pen-and-ink drawing of the author Carson McCullers, obviously troubled, that I put with a photograph of the original Broadway production of The Member of the Wedding with Ethel Waters, Julie Harris, and a very young Brandon deWilde and my favorite quote from the novel/play “She was afraid of these things that made her suddenly wonder who she was, and what she was going to be in the world, and why she was standing at that minute, seeing a light, or listening, or staring up into the sky: alone.” I bought the drawing and photograph at a sale of memorabilia one of my grad school professors had collected as she worked on a biography of McCullers. So the grouping reminds me of my academic field (Southern literature), a favorite author, a favorite work and a fascinating teacher.

    Reply
  71. Laura, thank you for identifying my little prince! I never knew it was Octavius. I’ve just spent a fascinating (if sad) several minutes reading about him. How heartbreaking to know he never got to grow any older than he is in the painting. I think, in my imagination, I’ll have to write a better life for him…

    Reply
  72. Laura, thank you for identifying my little prince! I never knew it was Octavius. I’ve just spent a fascinating (if sad) several minutes reading about him. How heartbreaking to know he never got to grow any older than he is in the painting. I think, in my imagination, I’ll have to write a better life for him…

    Reply
  73. Laura, thank you for identifying my little prince! I never knew it was Octavius. I’ve just spent a fascinating (if sad) several minutes reading about him. How heartbreaking to know he never got to grow any older than he is in the painting. I think, in my imagination, I’ll have to write a better life for him…

    Reply
  74. Laura, thank you for identifying my little prince! I never knew it was Octavius. I’ve just spent a fascinating (if sad) several minutes reading about him. How heartbreaking to know he never got to grow any older than he is in the painting. I think, in my imagination, I’ll have to write a better life for him…

    Reply
  75. Laura, thank you for identifying my little prince! I never knew it was Octavius. I’ve just spent a fascinating (if sad) several minutes reading about him. How heartbreaking to know he never got to grow any older than he is in the painting. I think, in my imagination, I’ll have to write a better life for him…

    Reply
  76. Annette, smiling is everything. And lobby cards are terrific things to collect. I have a few old ones myself, and they always make me happy when I get them out to look at them. One day I’ll get around to having them framed so I can hang them on the wall.

    Reply
  77. Annette, smiling is everything. And lobby cards are terrific things to collect. I have a few old ones myself, and they always make me happy when I get them out to look at them. One day I’ll get around to having them framed so I can hang them on the wall.

    Reply
  78. Annette, smiling is everything. And lobby cards are terrific things to collect. I have a few old ones myself, and they always make me happy when I get them out to look at them. One day I’ll get around to having them framed so I can hang them on the wall.

    Reply
  79. Annette, smiling is everything. And lobby cards are terrific things to collect. I have a few old ones myself, and they always make me happy when I get them out to look at them. One day I’ll get around to having them framed so I can hang them on the wall.

    Reply
  80. Annette, smiling is everything. And lobby cards are terrific things to collect. I have a few old ones myself, and they always make me happy when I get them out to look at them. One day I’ll get around to having them framed so I can hang them on the wall.

    Reply
  81. Teresa, I think the connection between a work of art and a person is a uniquely special thing, and quite wonderful when it happens. (And I’m sorry the past couple of years have been difficult for you–here’s hoping the next few will be better)

    Reply
  82. Teresa, I think the connection between a work of art and a person is a uniquely special thing, and quite wonderful when it happens. (And I’m sorry the past couple of years have been difficult for you–here’s hoping the next few will be better)

    Reply
  83. Teresa, I think the connection between a work of art and a person is a uniquely special thing, and quite wonderful when it happens. (And I’m sorry the past couple of years have been difficult for you–here’s hoping the next few will be better)

    Reply
  84. Teresa, I think the connection between a work of art and a person is a uniquely special thing, and quite wonderful when it happens. (And I’m sorry the past couple of years have been difficult for you–here’s hoping the next few will be better)

    Reply
  85. Teresa, I think the connection between a work of art and a person is a uniquely special thing, and quite wonderful when it happens. (And I’m sorry the past couple of years have been difficult for you–here’s hoping the next few will be better)

    Reply
  86. Most of my art is landscapes and still lifes, and doing a survey, I see that many of them have water and/or the moon in them.
    I do have one oil portrait of my grandmother, painted by my uncle which is very dear to me. She’s sitting at her kitchen window, as she often did. That’s how she knew all the goings on in the neighborhood!

    Reply
  87. Most of my art is landscapes and still lifes, and doing a survey, I see that many of them have water and/or the moon in them.
    I do have one oil portrait of my grandmother, painted by my uncle which is very dear to me. She’s sitting at her kitchen window, as she often did. That’s how she knew all the goings on in the neighborhood!

    Reply
  88. Most of my art is landscapes and still lifes, and doing a survey, I see that many of them have water and/or the moon in them.
    I do have one oil portrait of my grandmother, painted by my uncle which is very dear to me. She’s sitting at her kitchen window, as she often did. That’s how she knew all the goings on in the neighborhood!

    Reply
  89. Most of my art is landscapes and still lifes, and doing a survey, I see that many of them have water and/or the moon in them.
    I do have one oil portrait of my grandmother, painted by my uncle which is very dear to me. She’s sitting at her kitchen window, as she often did. That’s how she knew all the goings on in the neighborhood!

    Reply
  90. Most of my art is landscapes and still lifes, and doing a survey, I see that many of them have water and/or the moon in them.
    I do have one oil portrait of my grandmother, painted by my uncle which is very dear to me. She’s sitting at her kitchen window, as she often did. That’s how she knew all the goings on in the neighborhood!

    Reply
  91. Actually, Susanna, I just hung her on the door recently, as I lost track of her in a move several years back. Before that, she was on a wall, and while she was “lost,” she was always in my mind’s eye. I’m so happy now to have her staring back at me every day. And her cat always brings a smile to my face.

    Reply
  92. Actually, Susanna, I just hung her on the door recently, as I lost track of her in a move several years back. Before that, she was on a wall, and while she was “lost,” she was always in my mind’s eye. I’m so happy now to have her staring back at me every day. And her cat always brings a smile to my face.

    Reply
  93. Actually, Susanna, I just hung her on the door recently, as I lost track of her in a move several years back. Before that, she was on a wall, and while she was “lost,” she was always in my mind’s eye. I’m so happy now to have her staring back at me every day. And her cat always brings a smile to my face.

    Reply
  94. Actually, Susanna, I just hung her on the door recently, as I lost track of her in a move several years back. Before that, she was on a wall, and while she was “lost,” she was always in my mind’s eye. I’m so happy now to have her staring back at me every day. And her cat always brings a smile to my face.

    Reply
  95. Actually, Susanna, I just hung her on the door recently, as I lost track of her in a move several years back. Before that, she was on a wall, and while she was “lost,” she was always in my mind’s eye. I’m so happy now to have her staring back at me every day. And her cat always brings a smile to my face.

    Reply

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