A New Portrait
This is where I left off in Part 2:
|I don't even know how I arrived at this point.|
|Mixing unidentified paints is my version of living on the edge.|
|Placing highlights on the face. At this point, the figure could be anyone.|
|Frances was famous for her red hair that she swore she didn't dye.|
If she looks a bit manly at the moment, there is a reason for that.
My grandmother was not a beautiful woman. She was what people called "handsome" in the Victorian sense: well-groomed, well-dressed, with a strong presence, the kind of woman whose shoes and bag were perfectly matched to her tailored suit. When she wasn't dressed to the nines on the way to lunch at the Officer's Club, to church or to the opera, she was gardening and dressed like a yard man. She was a walking contradiction, she was authentic, and that was one of the things I loved about her.
I have a lot of work left to do regarding her likeness. All told, it's only been a few hours from start to finish. A portrait may take a month with short sittings like these. I'm grateful for the time I get and try to make the time really count.
|Quit now, before I do something stupid.|