this past sunday we celebrated my grandmother's 91st birthday at my parents' house — the same house in which i grew up. we got over there before my parents did, so i went down to the back yard, walked back to the creek, and had a good look around, charting what has changed over the past 40 years — and what has remained the same. many of the boulders in the usually-dry creek bed are unmoved, but it's clear that a lot of sediment and smaller rocks have dramatically moved around even though the banks of the creek are relatively the same. the old trail across to the field that's on the other side of the creek is overgrown, and a newer trail, started in the last ten years or so, is now the dominant footpath. seems cleaner. the shady canopy of oaks and elms is thicker than i remember for autumn time. my parents' lawn is well-maintained compared to mine, and it was nice kicking off my sandals and talking around in the green st. augustine while my kids took turns on the tire swing. i nosed around the side of the house and inspected my mom's planting area where she keeps younger transplants, potting soil, clay shards, and the like. i wonder if i'll make more time for tending and tilling and weeding and watering as i get older, or if i'll always be this ambivalent about the work-to-reward ratio. >> after lunch my dad and i took the oak 1x2 boards i had purchased earlier in the month and framed a large canvas that's been hanging in my living room for some time. i think it's time. i'm going to offer it for sale at the Viva Books Open House on November 23. the canvas has a story of redemption that i recount earlier in soupablog. read it here.
Tetradrachm
(30 pieces)
Paul Soupiset, 2003-2008, 72" x 60"
Acrylic, Pencil, Liquid Gold Leaf on Canvas
1200.
This is the last piece in the Eucharist Series.
and here's some snapshots of our adding the oak frame and some back-bracing.
dear old dad took a nailgun-propelled brad in the thumb for this one,
so, here's to you, dad :)
Recent Comments