I painted a picture for my mom quite a few years ago. I couldn't afford a proper canvas, so I used a big piece of cardboard, harvested from a supermarket watermelon box where I worked minimum wage. Painting was a pastime for me; it was a good way to get out of my reality for a while. My paints were the cheapest I could find, same with the brushes I used with them.
I like sunsets, a lot. My mom used to get really happy about sunsets when I was a kid. She liked all the colours the sky would dance with, the shapes the clouds cast as the sun went down. It always seemed so magical and so momentous. It was like she looked forward to each and every sunset.
So I began with bright colours: fiery orange, lemon yellow, cherry red. I remember Mom getting excited when there were shades of pink and purple, so I used those; I only had cotton candy pink and plum purple, but they worked.
I liked how the trees were shadows against a neon landscape. Like they were watching it, too, play out against the sky. Around home, there's big evergreens all over the place – dense forests of big needle trees protecting a mossy floor from the sun. Trees surround my childhood home. Trees are home.
Jet black paint became the trees.
Also at home are these big black ravens, flying up above. They would watch the land below, they would take care of it as best they could. They were the watchers, the seers, the guides to the dream world.
And it was done. I signed and dated the back.
My mom saw it one time in the studio, just sitting there without a purpose. And she really liked it; she showed more interest in this big painting than she had in anything else I'd ever painted. So I attached a hook, and she hung up up in her living room.
And it's been hanging up there ever since.
About a year after I painted it, she was looking at it. I thought something was wrong, so I asked her. She said there's a face.
I didn't paint a face. So I get up and look, and I can't see the face.
She points to the ravens, and says it looks like a smug and grumpy face.
And now I can't unsee it. Every time I pass the painting, I can't help thinking the ravens are judging me.
YOU ARE READING
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Non-FictionI had this idea last night after a few drinks, a pounding headache, and an excessive amount of throat lozenges. In order to inspire me to write more often than I currently do, I am planning to write a new post every day and publish it, allowing me t...
