Two friends of mine, an aunt and her niece, come from a very large family--11 brothers and sisters. Recently, when I asked them about their Thanksgiving plans, they told me that over 50 people would be coming, and that they would be cooking two large turkeys. When I asked them if everyone got along, they looked at each other, then smiled, and the aunt said, "Mostly. We do fine."
I don't know how they do it. Our parents are fading, fragile, and under the constant decay of dementia, which is eroding away what little memory they have left. Once they are gone, I'm not sure what will tie us siblings together. Taking the responsibility of their care has already caused large riffs between us, and as we've aged, the things that bothered us slightly 40 years ago are now huge issues that we can't talk about. There is anger, resentment, and in some cases, because of the current political climate, horrible exchanges on social media. And even within the close circle of our immediate family we have altercations that seem absurd, small things that blow up out of all proportion. I wish I knew the answers to making a family work, but I don't, and I worry that if we can't even work out our familial issues, then what hope do we have for running a country or a world.
30+ years of paintings, talked about one painting at a time: what went into the paintings, what I was trying to say, what was happening at the time of my life that I made the paintings. The paintings themselves are narrative, and this adds a little more to the story that they tell.
Sunday, November 26, 2017
Tuesday, November 7, 2017
Old Cowboy
"Old Cowboy" is very loosely based on my husband's
grandfather, Irby Downey, who, as a young man, was a ranch hand, first in Texas, and
then in Albuquerque on the West Mesa back in the 40's. He was a
dashing, handsome man(he looked like Richard Boone ), as well being charming and personable. And of course, the real deal: the quiet, rugged, western man with a drinking problem. But then, to make a living and support his wife and three children, he became a masonry contractor in Albuquerque leaving most of his cowboy life behind. I fabricated the rope
from a coiled hose, and his belt buckle from a bird's nest, his "bones"
made of tree branches.
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