I haven’t thought about this painting, other than to remember it every now and then and perhaps look for a copy of it as I have come across the artist’s work through the years. It is a simple painting, by a well known artist and I think the simplicity of it is what I have always loved most. It used to soothe me just to gaze at it. Just a simple landscape, a rural image, and the kind of scene that one can easily see riding around the South. How fondly I remember staring at the painting and thinking forward in time, to when it might someday hang on a wall in my home and all the memories that would be contained in its frame, from that time to the future. The life and times of a family that would have been witnessed by this painting in a frame, hanging on a wall, over a couch.
The painting is not mine, and as life has turned out, it never will be mine and up until yesterday, I had not thought of it or pined for it in a long time. I was reminded of it and just the thought of it gave me chills. It is probably the only thing, at least materially; that I have ever really wanted that belonged to someone else. I am not really interested in material possessions, but objects that mean something to people I love or know, mean the world to me. I love antiques for that reason as well, whether they belong to members of our family, or someone I will never know. If the object has meant something to someone, it seems their imprint is forever visible, making it even more special, alive, and beautiful.
It seems silly to me to think about a painting so much, so much so that I actually dreamed about it last night. Except in the dream, I was caught inside the actual painting, trapped in the frame, trying to escape.
Maybe the painting signifies something larger, perhaps the past is a trap I am trying to escape from, maybe the painting is a piece of a puzzle that will never be complete. Maybe I am just realizing that even though I love that painting, it was never mine and never meant to be mine. I have to let the painting go, let it hang on the wall, where it has been for so long now.
I can only hope that whoever eventually comes to own that painting, and hangs it in a new place, on a new wall, will realize how much it was loved. That it is more than just a painting in a frame, hanging on a wall, over a couch. It is well loved, and along with a family's memories, it is filled with a few of my own hopes and dreams from long ago, and the image was forever imprinted on a young girl’s impressionable mind and heart.
Living Happily Ever After,
Beverly
1 comment:
I have a painting like that! I found it in a gift store, a long time ago. That store was having a one-time customer appreciation sale and I had a big store credit and a special coupon just burning a hole in my pocket. Okay, in my wallet.
So, I'm making dinner and planning in my head for when I can safely leave the gang in The Boss's care to run over and purchase the amazing painting that brought such rest to my soul upon laying my eyes upon it. And The Boss calls me from work to say that he's on his way to the ER - he's pretty sure it's a pulled muscle but he's been having chest pains all afternoon and he wants to have it checked to be sure.
What do I do? I call my cousin and arrange for childcare. I feed the kids dinner and dress them for bed. And I go to the sale. No lie. Ask The Boss :)
It was worth it: pains were a pulled muscle, painting was 75 or 80% off by the time I handed over the cash. I love my painting. The Boss loves the painting. And The Boss still loves me :)
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