Old School

A few months ago, my mom asked me to donate a painting to an art auction she was organizing for one of the millions of volunteer things she does.  She needed it for an event that went down last week.

My mom had asked for a cityscape or a cafe scene.  My first inclination was to paint something totally new since I had so much time, so I set to work.  But, I immediately wasn't pleased with what I started.  I worked on it a couple of days for a few hours each, and then decided to give up because I just wasn't feeling it.   I mostly paint animals nowadays, so it just felt strange.

When I first started painting, I painted a lot of cityscapes and scenes of cafes both here in Erie and also other places.  Before I met her, the Chick had gone to Paris, and she had a slew of black and white prints that I loved to paint from.  I liked painting from the black and whites because then the basic shapes of things and the composition was all laid out for me, but the colors could be anything I wanted.  There were no preconceived notions.  It was fun to paint things colors that they would never be, or at least colors they would never be under normal circumstances.

When I needed this painting for my mom, and I wasn't feeling like painting something fresh, I thought through the paintings I had sitting around.  There aren't many left, as (fortunately!) I've sold most of them over the years through various venues.

There was one painting that I never sold, I guess for sentimental reasons.  I don't usually feel that attached to the art I create.  I think of it as something I want out in the world, not in the Lilypad crowding up the walls. 

This was the painting I decided to give to my mom.  It was pretty much the first painting I ever made.  It's just a random street scene form Paris.  I call it "Red Car:"

As it turned out, the painting didn't end up getting bid on in the auction.  My mom said none of the bigger paintings were bid on or purchased, sadly.  It's a small town (Titusville, PA), and these are hard times, so it wasn't a surprise that no one wanted to fork over a couple hundred buckos for a scene they didn't recognize.

And, I have to say I'm glad. 

I thought I wasn't attached to this piece, but it turned out that I was, and that I'm glad it didn't sell so it can go back up on the wall in the Rabbit Room.

I think that's where it belongs.