My friend Kay's father was a very talented artist, and he has passed away. Kay asked me if I would like to inherit his easel. I told her I would be proud to own it. Here it is in my studio/Conserve-a-tree(tm Shiffy)/sunroom:
Understatement of the Year: I AM NOT WORTHY.
I sent a thank you card to Kay's mother and also one to Kay, to thank them for choosing to let this part of their family history slum it in my house. I made a pair of tiny paintings and affixed each one to a card embroidered with a poor representation of the easel.
My husband asserts that this is the best thing I have ever painted in my life. "No, really. That's the best thing you have ever painted in your life." I can hardly disagree.
Surely this little guy is a solid contender for second place:
Here's a blast from the past -- a while back I gave this painting to Kay to hang over her guest bed. Her current guest is not pleased. She hates it so much that she demanded I take it home with me (she was a little drunk), but instead I made her pose in front of it so that I could document her displeasure. Behold:
I love action shots.
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