Not long after the Christmas guests have left and the cleanup is all but completed, my wife Barbi, whom I let retire to our upstairs bedroom for some much-deserved rest, comes bounding down the stairs, begging me for one of my paint boards. "I just need one," she pleads. John Lee Hooker once said, in his immortal Boogie Chillin', "It's in him and it's got to come out," so who am I to impede anyone's (especially my wife's) creative jones?
Flash forward a few hours. Our dear friend Billy has come over, bringing with him Polar Express, which Barbi had wanted to see as well, so I go upstairs to let her know we'll be starting the movie soon. I open the door to find the painting in its final moments of creation.
Noticing my entrance, she looks up and says, "I call it, The Planet I'm From."
I was stunned.
Flash forward a few hours. Our dear friend Billy has come over, bringing with him Polar Express, which Barbi had wanted to see as well, so I go upstairs to let her know we'll be starting the movie soon. I open the door to find the painting in its final moments of creation.
Noticing my entrance, she looks up and says, "I call it, The Planet I'm From."
I was stunned.
For anyone keeping score, it's a 16"x20" acrylic on board and I'm not sure if it's for sale or not. She fell asleep halfway through Polar Express (No reflection on the movie, I assure you) and I don't want to wake her just to ask.
Peace!
Peace!
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