Week 133

My mom always said she was not ever really a hippie. But when I see the black and white photos that show off the flared pants and hair attire, I’m in doubt.

Late one evening we came across her High School Senior photo, and the expression there transcended all guise of “hippie”, and time itself. The gentle gaze speaks of a spirit full of wonder and confidence, grace and ease.

We initially went for a classical feel on her face and hands, but as we reached the hair, she was set free. The soft brushed hair cascades down in a thick, airy mantle, becoming one with her body and clothing.

It’s was crazy to paint, every detail more familiar than I realized- like I’d memorized each minuscule curve while gazing at her face from the cradle of her steady arms. That was a crazy feeling and curious, to see her without agenda or function, just to look, and take it in as I must have as an infant. As I painted, it was a cascade of small realizations, “oh yes, and here it turns just in this way and yes!, here it goes just like that”! My eyes were seeing the truth of a primal knowledge deep within. I turn to the next generation, my two littles. Is it possible to be remembered in such a deeply instinctual way? Such a way that transcends the chatter of our current minds? If so, how will they remember me? It is my prayer and hope that grace, tremendous love and confidence given in the effortless way my mother offered it, will be what they see.

The Embrace

16 x 20 | Oil on Linen