Mom’s interest in painting was mercurial. She scoffed at the idea, professing that she didn’t, couldn’t and wouldn’t paint. When complemented on her artwork, she would immediately reply, “You’re crazy!” When pressed she had the best response of all, “I must have gotten this from your father’s side of the family.”
But paint she did—always interesting and sometimes remarkable. She was fast, completing a painting in about 30 minutes, never lingering, always knowing when her painting was done.
For about four months in the spring of 2015, a new pattern emerged. She would dash off a painting and then leave the class. After a few minutes—forgetting that she had just painted—she would return and ask, “May I join you?”
Not only was she having a wonderful time, she created two versions of the same model.
What is really interesting is that—wonder of wonders—she recognized them as her own and would tell me which one she preferred. Usually the last one, likely more clearly in her mind.
I had to be quick though, asking immediately after she painted. Within minutes she would revert to disinterest and denial.
But for that one brief moment she experienced pride and accomplishment.
Here are three examples with models and two versions of each.