When I was an art student at the Layton School of Art in Milwaukee, I would sometimes ask my mother if I could paint her. Her reply was always the same, “No, no, I am not photogenic. Why not ask your dad?” When I did so, his answer was the reverse, “No, no, ask your mother.” I quickly came to the conclusion that very few people wanted themselves painted, but many would like to see their loved ones portrayed. I realized then that I’d chosen a career that no one wanted but everyone needed!
As my parents aged, I felt an increasing need for them to be represented permanently on canvas. These were the years in which I was supporting a family of four young children. My family's economic needs required frequent exhibits, large classes to teach, and a calendar of commissioned paintings. My brother Bob stepped in to help with the family expenses, freeing me to put two full months into our mutually desired painting.
The portrait was intended as a surprise, and I was concerned that the extensive photoshoot would arouse some suspicion in my parents. My mother, however, took the session in a casual manner, appearing in the brown polka-dotted blouse she wears in the painting. Polka dots are not my favorite item to paint since they are both repetitive and demanding. I questioned my mother's selection, but she insisted, leaving me no choice.
Having completed and framed their painting, the day of our visit finally arrived. I secretly placed the portrait against the kitchen cabinet while the other members of the family conversed in the living room. My mother entered the kitchen, and upon seeing the painting, she seemed to go into some form of shock or heart failure. I was relieved when she finally caught her breath, since I had feared the worst.
Knowing how shy they had been about their appearance, I expected my parents to hide the portrait in a back bedroom, but to my surprise, they insisted that I hang it on the main wall of the living room across from their picture window. An ascending road led to the driveway where their home was situated at the end of a cul-de-sac. Thus, the portrait was visible to everyone who used their street.
As the years went by, and my parents entered into their final reward, I acquired this precious painting. Now I wake up to Dad and Mom’s typical expressions every morning, having replaced the mirror above my dresser with their sweet faces. This reminder of them evokes wonderful memories as I begin my day.
