I’d stopped at a local apple farm one afternoon several years ago, both for a luscious chocolate frosted doughnut fresh from their ovens and a fun browse through the art boutique in their barn, when I came upon a small but exquisite painting that simply made my heart zing.
I remember it as being only about 8×8, perched on an easel… a softly tinted portrait of a young woman from the 40’s, a tender look that caught warm happiness upon her delicately pretty face. And next to the painting, a faded vintage photo of the same, revealing the artist’s “model.”
Something in it spoke to me of English landscape behind her. I think the subject may have been captured by camera in an everyday moment, standing next to a British-looking auto…and I wondered who she was. Someone in the artist’s family? Or a commissioned piece of someone dear to a client? The display appeared as though the artist had simply stepped away, inviting viewers to think of the possibilities she might render from their beloved photos, yet I didn’t see her around to ask.
But — oh! I wanted this picture!
I checked the price. Ugg… Not really extravagant, but for me at the time, a bit steep. Reluctantly, I walked away.
Took another look.
Repeated that pattern, again and again.
Mentally going through my budget. Trying to squeeze a way to splurge.
It reminded me of my mom…
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© Pam Depoyan