We're a little gun-shy about recreating that look here.
But, yesterday, I felt I needed to hang a picture that was passed down from my mother to me, a painting of Mt. Moran, one of the picturesque beautiful mountains in the Grand Teton National Park, a painting created by a family member.
Today, I'm thankful for several things. I'm thankful that my Uncle Claude (actually, he was my mother's uncle, so my great-uncle...) made the decision to take up painting and put the time and effort into the craft so that we--along with others, I'm sure---can have beautiful art to enrich their lives.
I don't know the date of the painting I put up yesterday. I imagine it was done in the 1950s or 1960s. I also believe it was done while Charles Claudius Dalley sat next to the lake and painted what he saw. I could be wrong--he could have taken a picture and painted it from that, or from memory, but when I consider how the painting came to be, I can see a man, born in the nineteenth century and having survived two world wars, the Spanish Flu, and the Great Depression, sitting humbly with paint and brushes creating art.
I think I only met Uncle Claude once. I was young so I don't remember much. There was an art studio, or a place with art supplies. Maybe that's when we got the picture. I don't know for sure. I do know I can't remember my childhood home without the painting of Mt. Moran. We took it from that house when my mother died, and we took it with us when we moved last year. Yesterday, I hammered a nail into the pristine, hole-less wall and hung the picture.
I wish I could have known him better--I read some of his history online this afternoon. Because I hung up his painting, the house is a better place because of my decision, and we are better for having a relative work so hard to create something so lovely.
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