Thursday, June 23, 2011

Art Enables Us To Find Ourselves And Lose Ourselves At The Same Time

I recently acquired this drawing, which was done by my father in 1978; when I was in the Bronx a few weeks ago for a family funeral, my Aunt Rose (my father's sister) gave it to me. It was folded, in an envelope, among some old photos. As soon as I saw it, I knew I'd have it matted and framed as a gift for my brother.

I took it to Michael's craft store to have it professionally framed although this photo doesn't really do it justice. I wanted somethign that would fit with my brother's Tuscan-styled home. Something rustic, but not cowboy-ish or western, since it was an Indian. The frame is a dark, almost black distressed wood and the thick brown matting, when viewed up close, looks like weathered leather. The other two mats, the lighter brown and the thin line of black, really contrast beautifully against the old yellowed paper and the pencil strokes of the drawing.

I really don't know why my father chose to draw an Indian. My mother was into Indians for a while, so maybe he was indulging her interest, but whatever the reason, it was such a treasure to see and hold in my hands. My father sketched quite a bit and was responsible for creating the painted scenes on the two picture windows of our house each Christmas season.

I shipped it to my brother for father's day and I'm happy to report it was a hit, my brother really liked it. Looking at this drawing with its crease across the center and my father's signature in the bottom right hand corner, really gives me a happy feeling. And knowing that my father's art will now live on one of the walls of my brother's home, and be passed on to one of my three nephews, make me even happier.

Something else I got out of this framing experience (it's the first time I've had something professionally framed), was the fact that having something professionally framed exponentionally raises its beauty and appeal. Preserving this kind of work, especially since it was done by my parent, is very important to me. My mother is a very talented watercolor artist and I've always wanted to have her work framed in a similar manner, but have never done it. Seeing this drawing just sealed the deal for me.

** The title of this post is a quote by Thomas Merton, American Writer and Trappist Monk

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Even God Can’t Help Men
My President’s House
Don’t Give Up Hope If You Just Don’t Know What You Want To Be When You Grow Up, You Have Choices
Alright, Mr. DeMille, I’m Ready For My Close-Up
Stone Magnolia
Fitty Nine!!!

1 comment:

Gil said...

Beautiful and heartwarming gift.