my father was a Prominent interior designer in Boston & New York in the 1970's. At one time he had a massive collection of Art and Furniture which he systematically sold to support himself years later as his personal finances crumbled and his defiance against coming back home to rely upon the support of his parents increased. His father had enough of my father's irresponsibility and gave him an ultimatum, "come back home and work for me or provide for your own welfare in the future". These weren't idle words. My father spent carelessly and never understood the concept of putting funds aside to pay bills. His parents had never allowed him to stand independantly on his own. He entertained lavishly, traveled extensively and was very generous to his "friends". In the end he did come back, and when he passed away October 9th, 1984 at the age of 41 he had a fraction of his former collection left. I was a freshman in High School when he died, and as his only child I inherited these things. At the time I had little value for Art, having been raised in the country by my mother, with sporadic weekends spent with Dad when he could get away from The City and venture to pick me up on a given Saturday. Saturday's were our time together, according to the court settlement between my parents. The initial settlement just after the divorce gave him unlimited visitation, but this changed drastically by the time I was 5.
He made some unwise choices, letting me play unsupervised sometimes (I remember one time going up and down in an elevator by myself at The Plaza in New York for hours before he found me). Another time he had a huge reception at his Apartment in Boston, which I observed, even at my tender age was predominantly men and they were drinking heavily (my father was gay). When my mother got word of this, she brought him back into court and nearly had his visitation rights cut off completely. I remember a man coming out to visit me several times asking questions about my father and what sort of things we did together. I have little memory of the exact conversations (apart from what my mother has told me) but whatever I said worked magic, because my father's visitation was not taken away, but merely amended to include Saturday's only and from 10 to 6.
There would never again be overnight visits or weekend trips. This continued until his death. My father would often not show up, make excuses, but over time was reasonably consistent. I probably saw him at least twice a month in any case. And I worshiped the ground he walked on, which continuously infuriated my mother who chose to point out his irresponsibility and inconsistent visits to me on a regular basis. Let's not even go into the name calling and insults based upon that "homosexual" lifestyle. Funny all that stuff flowed off my back like water on a tortoise shell. He could do no wrong in my book, and while I cried a like a baby when he wouldn't show up, when he did, my smile was from ear to ear.
Moving along to today's theme. The Watercolor pictured above was one of maybe a dozen pieces Dad left me. It is a work by an artist I know only as "A.Weber" and was completed in July 1963. I have tried to establish just who this person was, with little success. And what does it mean exactly? As with most Art that is open to interpretation...and because it sits here right next to me at my desk, I find myself staring blankly at it from time to time wondering.. What does it mean? What was the artist trying to portray?
What do you think??
(post whatever comes to mind, I am really clueless ,even if you comment that it is a portrait of the infamous three legged hermaphrodite cave dweller from the northern coast of Sri Lanka I'll bite)
Yesterday was much like any Monday, busy at work, came home, ate some Tuna and Greens left over from Friday, walked the three miles which has become my evening routine, came home chatted with some friends, had a grapefruit, crunched, chatted some more and then went to bed. Peaceful and relaxing. Now for the 2nd day in a row I am late and have to take a shower.
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Posted by Persian Guy :: 7:00 AM :: 21 Comments: