This morning, while contemplating some possible changes on my website, I found this drawing I made in 2001 of the chair my father used to relax in when I was growing up. We still have it, of course. It was reupholstered once, back in the late Seventies. It’s between fifty and sixty years old.
[click to enlarge]
11.29.2010 #2
11.29.2010 #1 (drawing)
16 comments:
very nice drawing
Dessiné avec amour... si ce fauteuil pouvait parler... n'est-ce pas?
Bises
It´s like a jewel.
Great way to imortalize it.
Hugs, William!
Thanks, Caio!
Very true, Martine. And it still does, in fact.
Hello, Crissant. Yes, the chair is an old friend.
oh so sweet your drawing, it give me kind of feeling yes I would say tenderness
:-)
Ah. Laura, that’s nice of you.
William what a wonderful drawing. Not only because it is a wonderful drawing in and of itself, but mostly because of the memory attached to it...
It reminded me of one of my paintings that I did back in 2007. I posted it on my blog just a few minutes ago if you would like to see it.
Thank you, Jan. Yes, I’m looking at it now... what a great atmosphere. I love the spirit in all your recent Christmas posts.
"We still have it . . . ." Our house is like that, too.
Very nice drawing--lots of personality.
Thanks, Jean. I remember that at that time I had decided I was probably capable of drawing something in such a way that it would at least resemble what it was; this chair proved it was possible; and yet something has always lured me away from that course; a feeling that things are never quite what they seem, perhaps; or maybe just semi-colons.
Seems every father had such a chair...a cocktail next to it on the end table, where a newspaper lay dissected and soaking condensation.
In my father’s case, what you describe generally took place at the kitchen table, and the cocktail was a beer. The Fresno Bee in those days was still an evening edition, and often in the summer there was more work to do in the evening. Ah, farm life. The chair itself was the scene of many mighty naps.
And i am glad, very glad indeed that you preserve it. Life and time take so many things, so why not to snatch them something every now and then??
At least to enjoy the taste of a temporary victory in an already lost war. And the lovely old chair, the last headquarter standing.
The throne of a dearly beloved king, and of a man who was a willing slave to his family. Thank you, Alberto.
and to imagine the weight of his hips settling in. i imagine he might have been slow in his ease and enjoyment. maybe?
xo
erin
His truest ease was in his work. Family was his enjoyment. Though it tried, his chair could never really hold him. But it bears his weight now that he is gone.
Post a Comment