Painting a Memory

A long time ago I used to paint. When the YM came along it became impossible. I would just put out paints and he would need me. By the time I got back to it the brushes would be ruined and the paint dried out. It wasn’t feasible anymore.

It actually worked out. At the time, I was said, but I got rid of a lot of painting supplies and began to focus on quiltmaking. I am happy that I did. I think having 100 canvases around the house would be much harder to deal with. Also, I wasn’t a very good painter. I enjoyed it, but I would never have been great.

Auntie's View
Auntie’s View

Before that I painted a picture of a view I looked at as a kid. The view is from inside my godmother’s kitchen out into the dining room and is completely stylized. I don’t really know why this view made such an impression on me, but I remember sitting in the kitchen and looking that way a lot.

The walls were not violet. The stove, a space age looking electric behemoth, was on the left inside the kitchen door. Auntie (what we called my godmother) never made cakes like that  and the Christmas tree was not in the dining room. The overall arrangement was correct.