One of the things that I like best about the 30 in 30 challenge is that it forces me to work more quickly and simplify things. I know this makes my paintings better, but I tend to forget and get fussy – and knowing something isn’t always the same as doing it. I’m pretty pleased with this little painting, and I hope I can remember to keep it simple after this month is over.
When you realize (again) that your sweet cat is actually a skilled and savage beast, aren’t you glad that the size disparity between the two of you isn’t reversed? I always am.
My daughter and her boyfriend have been thinking about getting a cat. They’ve been pouring over the internet listings of Denver area shelters. Our whole family has become interested in this hypothetical cat, and my son Bob thinks an orphaned cat who looks a little like she’s been dropped on her face if her face was made of unfired clay is just perfect. So much so that he made her photo the screen saver on the computer in the living room. The shelter estimates her age to be around 9 years old and they have named her “Miss Kitten.”
The final 10″ x 8″ oil on canvas for Zip 37’s “Valentine/UnValentine” show is my little valentine to Cecilia Giménez. If you’re unfamiliar with the story, you can read about her good-faith (but ultimately comical) attempt to restore a church fresco here.
Having made many colossally stupid but innocent-hearted mistakes in my life, I’ve always had a lot of sympathy for Doña Giménez.
Saint Valentine, according to one legend, had his head liberated from his body for marrying young lovers under Emperor Claudius’ reign. At least his heart was in the right place.
This painting will be on display at Zip 37‘s “Valentine/UnValentine Show” that opens with a reception from 6 to 9 tomorrow evening (red wine! chocolate!) and runs until February 18.
I was thinking about grade school and the valentines we gave our classmates – available at the drugstore, punch-out, 40 per box. We would decorate a shoebox to collect our valentines and I always liked that part. Some painful memories but a few sweet ones in there, too. I recall coming across an old valentine in one of my dad’s books (the things that get tucked into books! A whole world of slender orphaned tickets, recipes, love letters, and currency ) just a couple of years before he died. I brought it to him and he got downright verklempt. He remembered the little girl who had signed her name. There was a reason he had saved that one and tucked it into a book all those years ago.