Hello again peoples. Things have been busy in the Main house I assure you. Allow me to apologize for the lack of posted postables. I actually have something to say about Mother’s day, which at this point seems like it was months ago. That’s alright, here I go anyway.
So I wanted to paint my mom’s favorite dog for her. I had a moment of apprehension about it. Painting animals in the way that I do always makes me feel like I wear wolf shirts. Not in the hipster, ah man wolf shirts are rad kind of way. I mean the completely oblivious to the fact that wolf shirts are now a hipster phenomenon and I just wear ’em because I like freaking wolves kind of way. I don’t feel the need to explain this feeling anymore. But I digress.
I wanted to paint Jasmine (that’s her name) for my mom because they were best friends. She was an awesome dog. She was very people friendly (unless you happened to be the mailman), loved to play ball, and she would just hang out with you and keep you company if you were sick or out of it. She was tough too. She was like a Timex watch…takes a licking and keeps on ticking. I remember she got poisoned by someone in the neighborhood one evening. My mom and I went outside and found her convulsing and foaming at the mouth. It S U C K E D. Apparently someone had thrown bones in our yard that had been soaked with poison. She was pretty physically messed up from it…she went blind and couldn’t run around as well as she could before.
You’d think that maybe something like playing ball would have gone to the wayside but she was a fiend for playing even after she couldn’t see. I don’t know how exactly, but my little brother taught her how to play catch again after she went blind. He would stand so that he was blocking the sun in front of Jasmine. Then he would raise his hand with the ball in it and toss it into her mouth. We think that she may have been able to distinguish light and dark because it really makes no sense otherwise. At any rate she was always super happy even playing ball with a shadow. Dogs are like that.
I knew that if I got my mom to cry, then it was confirmation that my portrait was on point. I didn’t have a good picture of her but I was determined to paint the portrait. I used a couple pictures my mom had around the house. One was a super dark, blurry Polaroid that I used for the pose and another was a very tiny picture I used for her coloring. I was able to breath some life into the painting and I even painted in her once cloudy eyes from memory. That was nice for me.
My mom cried. A lot. She got my Grandma and Aunt to cry. And then I felt just a little bad.
She was super goofy and a wonderful girl. We miss her.
I paint other people’s lost pets over at my Etsy.