I have been thinking of my mother today. She was multitalented: played the piano and organ, painted, sewed and was clever at many crafts, including ikebana. She was a stunner when she was young. I have a copy of her wedding portrait, and she could have doubled for Vivian Leigh, seriously, and was always stylishly dressed, even in to old age.
What brought her to mind, today specifically, was her love of fall colors. Many of her paintings were of Fall in Indiana and the colors that were so prominent then. She of course was fond of the bright reds and golds, but she used to surprise me for her fondness of the many shades of brown. She would remark upon seeing some particular landscape, “Just look at those colors (browns), wouldn’t they make a beautiful sweater”? I didn’t get it at the time, but I think if she had ever taken up weaving, browns would have figured prominently in her palette.
I stopped to make some exposures of these dried grasses, and the tree line in the background, and heard myself saying, “Wouldn’t those colors make a beautiful sweater”? A voice from the past alive in my head, and as true now as then. Mothers. We never forget, but sometimes need to be reminded.