We went strawberry picking the other day and came home with 6 pounds of delicious juicy berries. The berries reminded me of a painting I started a year and a half ago. I was very pregnant at the time, but wanted to have a painting included in an exhibit at a local gallery. I don't recall the exact theme of the show, but it had something to do with the Eastern Shore, a local theme. One of the many things I love about the Eastern Shore is the strawberries in late spring, so I started a painting of just that. Well, Waylon came a week early and I never did finish the painting or enter the show. That painting, along with the rest of my artwork, eventually got packed up and has been sitting in our basement ever since (waiting patiently for a permanent home). So I dug out my strawberries and finished it up this week.
Perhaps this is why I have such a hard time letting go of my work, every painting is tied up with my life at the time it was started or completed. This painting will forever remind me of a two-year-old short haired Hollin, our little rancher in Woolford, wondering who our second baby would be, and of course, STRAWBERRIES.