Our Lady

I wanted to paint an icon of Our Lady of Vladimir until I came across this other image. Our Lady's eyes in this particular icon are the most expressive bearing a look of joy and at the same time, extreme pain. It's a shame the photo doesn't  capture the very subtlety of her glance. 

There's almost a desire to try a different icon all together.  I'm finding it impossible to duplicate her look.  But then again, maybe I'm not meant to. 

Mary Jane

Mary Jane was my grandfather's oldest sister  who after coming of age brought her siblings back together under one roof to be a family again.  Some were old enough to work  in factories, some on farms.  All of them contributed to the household.

Mary Jane postponed marriage for herself until she was in her early 40's. Her desire first was to see her brothers and sister wed and living on their own before considering her future. What a legacy of love. 

Gramp

My grandfather's mother passed away when he was five years old; his father left the family shortly thereafter.  He and his siblings were kindly taken in by aunts and uncles who could raise them until they were of age to live on their own--and that's another story.  I had no idea of this until recently when I was reacquainted with relatives who could tell me about his upbringing. 

I knew him as a man who never groused about anyone or anything.  He saw everyday as a celebration and he lived by that  belief--nothing was insurmountable.  He was always a gentle giant and now that I've learned more about his youth, he's grown even taller in my eyes.  I miss you Gramp. 

Bessie

I'm not certain how 14 people could still be smiling after posing for a family portrait, but they did.  This is Bessie, my grandfather's sister who was one of the 14 sitters in a family portrait taken in the early 1900's.  And does anyone wear such lovely black bows in their hair anymore?  Ah, a time gone by.

Knowing how difficult it was to arrange for a portrait of a family of five where someone didn't have an eye closed, was frowning, had anything but a smile, or was looking somewhere, anywhere other than straight ahead made for interesting  sittings, especially where three young children wanted to be done with it as soon as we were ready to begin;  my hat is off to that family of fourteen who were determined to make it happen. But then that's what families do.  We want to document who we are when--something future generations will find endearing.  No more elaborate hats or bows though I'm sorry to say. 

Our summer has been all about visiting family. There were trips from coast to coast to see children, grandchildren, and extended family.  One get-together was reconnecting with second cousins  I vaguely remembered, and am now aware of a whole nother side that was almost overlooked.  I wish I thought to grab my camera more frequently to capture these summer moments I will want to recall years from now, but when you're living it, the last thing you think to do is start pulling out a camera.  Perhaps some memories are best preserved in the heart.