Black SatinArtist - Amanda Cook
Jim said it wasn't that he minded going to see naked pictures of his own daughter; he just didn't like driving all over the country to do it.
I reached across the console to pick some lint off his pants. "Westfield isn’t the other side of the world,” I said. “Anyway, they're not pictures. They're paintings."
He pushed my hand away. “I don’t care if they’re the Sistine Chapel ceiling,” he said. “Why is everything in Westfield?”
We drove the sixty-odd miles to the town where our daughter, Kim, had settled after college and found our way to the hole-in-the wall storefront that housed the gallery. I pushed open the beveled-glass door and caught my breath. The invitation to the show had come on a 4” by 6” postcard that featured a back view of Kim, the crenellations of her spine descending from delicate neck to narrow hips. It had provided a glimpse of one breast; the show offered so much more. I spotted a table nearby, loaded down with hors d’oeuvres and red wine in little plastic glasses. I rarely drink, but suddenly a glass of wine sounded like a good idea.
To read the entire story, please click here.
I reached across the console to pick some lint off his pants. "Westfield isn’t the other side of the world,” I said. “Anyway, they're not pictures. They're paintings."
He pushed my hand away. “I don’t care if they’re the Sistine Chapel ceiling,” he said. “Why is everything in Westfield?”
We drove the sixty-odd miles to the town where our daughter, Kim, had settled after college and found our way to the hole-in-the wall storefront that housed the gallery. I pushed open the beveled-glass door and caught my breath. The invitation to the show had come on a 4” by 6” postcard that featured a back view of Kim, the crenellations of her spine descending from delicate neck to narrow hips. It had provided a glimpse of one breast; the show offered so much more. I spotted a table nearby, loaded down with hors d’oeuvres and red wine in little plastic glasses. I rarely drink, but suddenly a glass of wine sounded like a good idea.
To read the entire story, please click here.
I just have one thought after all this. You are a great mom and a great woman.
ReplyDeleteI don't think I would have invited my parents. Or anyone I know. And I don't think I will ever have the chutzpah to pose nude.
ReplyDeleteI have to admire your childs courage and I have to admire you....
ReplyDeleteJeanne - I don't know how I missed this original posting the firs time around. You are a very talented writer and an admirable mom.
ReplyDeleteI would have had a glass or two of wine as well. Beautiful painting! Thank you for stopping by my blog!
ReplyDeleteI am not sure I could have invited my parents either. Kudos to you and hope the wine was did its job. However, for Kim, what a great experience and what wonderful pieces of art she will have to remember her youth by when she is old and grey. Of course what great parents she has to have instilled in her such a healthy self esteem. I like that a lot. I congratulate you all. And that painting is truly stunning. Did you buy any?
ReplyDeleteOh, my. I have daughters and that would be hard, But, wow, what gorgeous work. Good for you for supporting her.
ReplyDeleteDon't know what happened to my last comment. Just wanted to say that I thought this was a marvellous piece of writing! Loved it.
ReplyDelete