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When I was young, I had this awesome great-great-aunt that lived only a few blocks away. She let me "runaway" to her house for a few hours when my parents were too much, and would ply me with cookies and hot chocolate or ice cream, tell me stories, let me paint, and then send me home.
I did a post on Tumblr about her a while back for International Women's Day because she was a lounge singer in Greenwich village in the 20's, an Army nurse that ran a hospital in Italy during WWII, and the second dean of Saint Catherine's College. She never married because she said no man was worth her and, eventually, I figured out she was a dyke like me.
She died when I was about 16, she was 93 at the time. Everyone divided up her stuff, and I really wanted a single painting of hers, but didn't really have a claim. My parents gave my a tiny yellow rose she painted on black canvas when I moved to the dorms, and I was thrilled.
When my grandmother died, the family divvied up the literally dozens of paintings she had from her aunt. I was so happy to get one. Then we found the one she had painted of her girlfriend and my aunties insisted I get it, so I had two! Then someone left one behind because they didn't like the damaged frame and my cousin insisted I take it because "it's done in the style of 'Irises' and I remember how much you liked sitting with her." So I took home three for a total of four!
When my parents moved, they left behind one of her few watercolors (she usually preferred oils), and we hung it with the rest in the dining room (next to the liquor cabinet, so it truly was a memorial to her *g*). Now my sister is moving and she gave me hers so it wasn't lost in storage while she's in Thailand for a year.
All my life, I wanted just one from her collection, and now I have six. I just had to share because it makes me so happy to have some small piece of this truly awesome woman who meant so much to me growing up.
I did a post on Tumblr about her a while back for International Women's Day because she was a lounge singer in Greenwich village in the 20's, an Army nurse that ran a hospital in Italy during WWII, and the second dean of Saint Catherine's College. She never married because she said no man was worth her and, eventually, I figured out she was a dyke like me.
She died when I was about 16, she was 93 at the time. Everyone divided up her stuff, and I really wanted a single painting of hers, but didn't really have a claim. My parents gave my a tiny yellow rose she painted on black canvas when I moved to the dorms, and I was thrilled.
When my grandmother died, the family divvied up the literally dozens of paintings she had from her aunt. I was so happy to get one. Then we found the one she had painted of her girlfriend and my aunties insisted I get it, so I had two! Then someone left one behind because they didn't like the damaged frame and my cousin insisted I take it because "it's done in the style of 'Irises' and I remember how much you liked sitting with her." So I took home three for a total of four!
When my parents moved, they left behind one of her few watercolors (she usually preferred oils), and we hung it with the rest in the dining room (next to the liquor cabinet, so it truly was a memorial to her *g*). Now my sister is moving and she gave me hers so it wasn't lost in storage while she's in Thailand for a year.
All my life, I wanted just one from her collection, and now I have six. I just had to share because it makes me so happy to have some small piece of this truly awesome woman who meant so much to me growing up.
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