2006-04-07
Entry tags:
A strange and sudden fancy
My grandparents had this picture in their house that I loved as a child. It was an oil painting, I think, and it was of a young black girl, her back to the artist, leaning against a fence in a field. She was wearing a white, sleeveless shirt and blue pants, her hair in cornrows. It was, well, serene is probably a good word for it. I used to love looking at that painting.
My grandmother left it to this woman who had been her house-cleaner when I was very young, because she had always liked it, which was, of course, a nice thing to do, but sometimes I wish I still had that painting. I was sitting here at the computer thinking, 'Maybe I can Google it,' but I wouldn't even know where to begin. I don't know the artist's name, when it was done, anything. All I have is the memory of it, like a memory of an old friend.
And now I wish I could remember the name of the woman who got the painting. She always seemed to be ancient to me, and I was always shy around her, even though she was nothing but kind to me. I remember going with my grandmother to drive her home, and playing with the several daschhounds she had. She had an unusual name...that's really going to bug me now.
My grandmother left it to this woman who had been her house-cleaner when I was very young, because she had always liked it, which was, of course, a nice thing to do, but sometimes I wish I still had that painting. I was sitting here at the computer thinking, 'Maybe I can Google it,' but I wouldn't even know where to begin. I don't know the artist's name, when it was done, anything. All I have is the memory of it, like a memory of an old friend.
And now I wish I could remember the name of the woman who got the painting. She always seemed to be ancient to me, and I was always shy around her, even though she was nothing but kind to me. I remember going with my grandmother to drive her home, and playing with the several daschhounds she had. She had an unusual name...that's really going to bug me now.
Entry tags:
A strange and sudden fancy
My grandparents had this picture in their house that I loved as a child. It was an oil painting, I think, and it was of a young black girl, her back to the artist, leaning against a fence in a field. She was wearing a white, sleeveless shirt and blue pants, her hair in cornrows. It was, well, serene is probably a good word for it. I used to love looking at that painting.
My grandmother left it to this woman who had been her house-cleaner when I was very young, because she had always liked it, which was, of course, a nice thing to do, but sometimes I wish I still had that painting. I was sitting here at the computer thinking, 'Maybe I can Google it,' but I wouldn't even know where to begin. I don't know the artist's name, when it was done, anything. All I have is the memory of it, like a memory of an old friend.
And now I wish I could remember the name of the woman who got the painting. She always seemed to be ancient to me, and I was always shy around her, even though she was nothing but kind to me. I remember going with my grandmother to drive her home, and playing with the several daschhounds she had. She had an unusual name...that's really going to bug me now.
My grandmother left it to this woman who had been her house-cleaner when I was very young, because she had always liked it, which was, of course, a nice thing to do, but sometimes I wish I still had that painting. I was sitting here at the computer thinking, 'Maybe I can Google it,' but I wouldn't even know where to begin. I don't know the artist's name, when it was done, anything. All I have is the memory of it, like a memory of an old friend.
And now I wish I could remember the name of the woman who got the painting. She always seemed to be ancient to me, and I was always shy around her, even though she was nothing but kind to me. I remember going with my grandmother to drive her home, and playing with the several daschhounds she had. She had an unusual name...that's really going to bug me now.