SOLDMy Mother's Garden
I was looking over my old photos and found one of my mother's garden in Falls Church. My mother lived in this little house long enough to pay off the mortgage, the last twenty-two years alone after my father passed away. A published poet and artist, to me her garden was her greatest masterpiece (after us children) among many outstanding accomplishments.
I painted her as I like to remember her: puttering in her garden at its most glorious. In May, when dozens of azaleas burst into a riot of bloom, the modest brick house became the showpiece of the neighborhood, and strangers driving by would stop to admire her handiwork. At the back, under her bedroom window were the orange-red bunches of "Gibraltar," by the entry steps the apricot-colored Exbury I had given her as a present. The reds, pinks and whites blended seamlessly with other flowers in bold combinations: orange-red poppies with purple iris along the front walk. Hers was a garden for all seasons, with bloom from early March through, at times, late roses in December.
Alas, she is gone to a better place now, and so is her garden. But it will always live on in my memory, as does our home and garden in Cuba. Today's painting is for all of us whose mothers loved gardens, and were much loved. It's a pastel on Wallis paper (see Feb 14 entry), approximately 9-1/2" x 11".
