Looking through the memories, I loved seeing pictures of my mom as a little girl playing with her four brothers. Mom’s pretty blonde hair all done up prim and proper for her dance recital or disheveled from “horsing around” with the boys. You can see in them as children the adults they were to become. I was taken in by the old dusty film and saw the artistic potential they held. My grandmother, now eighty-six, often recounts for me the happenings of each captured moment. I listen with intent and record with paint those memories.
My watercolor composition stays true to the faded coloring of the vintage slide. Soft sand, with calm sea water and cloudless sky. The man stands tall, in an almost absent composure while the child plays. I have kept their nontraditional beach attire, letting the viewer work out their own reasoning. The quiet thoughtfulness in each of them still a mystery.