Abandoned

Hello. I'm sure by now that you've noticed that I am fond of rural life on farms. This painting was inspired by a photograph. Where I come from in N.C., as you ride down the twisty roads, many a gray and decaying building appears on both sides. Some are old barns, some are smokehouses, others are family dwellings. Often they sit in the middle of fields with corn, soybeans and cotton growing as close to the dwelling as the farmer and the plow could get. As my mother and I ride by the houses, she names them for the families who built them, raised children in them and then either moved away or built newer houses. She'll speak of the children as she knew them in school and tell tales of playing basketball outdoors on dirt courts, or of pranks they played on their teachers. The contrast between her vivid recollections and the broken down dwellings is stark. My mother holds the history in her heart and mind. I think that is fortunate for the folks she knew.

Monday Wash

Good morning, everyone. This oil (and I admit that it didn't scan very well) represents the archetypical work ethic of country folks all around our country and even our world. Their lives are filled up with chores that seem simple and repetitious but are crucial to their survival. In my experience, I have found they just do the task before them and move on to the next. Monday morning wash was a ritual where I spent some of my childhood. The women would stand at the wringer washing machine and feed the sheets, towels and clothing through the wringers. There was a tin tub or basket that caught the laundry as it dropped from the wringer. That basket was hurried out to the clothesline while the next load was wringing through. Along with the chatter about how many loads were left to do, they planned dinner and supper. Sometimes yeast rolls were already rising in the kitchen with a ham baking in the oven. Who would gather the lima beans and tomatoes from the garden? Who would set to baking the pie shells? Once in a while, while the sheets are swishing in my electric washer, I put a ham in the oven and set to making out yeast rolls. On such a day, I feel grounded.