Thinking About Geraniums

9×12 Oil

If my Mama could come back as a flower, I think it would be a geranium!   (Now before you think I’ve finally gone off the deep end, hear me out.)

This morning, after seeing the inevitable Mothers’ Day posts on Facebook, I went out to the studio to work.  I meant to finish up some things and clean up some things and pack some things for an upcoming trip.  But the geraniums were beckoning me – calling out to me – luring me into the yard to paint them!  So I did.

As I painted, I began to think about how like a geranium my own mother was:  bright and cheerful, even in rain or hot sun; strong enough to stand, yet flexible enough to bend when necessary;  commanding my attention when it needed to be focused; growing best in groups, she brought joy to those around! (Being from a really large family may have added to her gregarious nature.)

The shape, or non-shape, of a geranium bloom reminds me of Sarah Miller’s creative, spur of the moment, non-conformist spirit.  The organic, curved lines are almost musical as they show up “here, there and yonder” like the songs that would erupt from Mama throughout the day.  Just like a geranium, ready to burst with blooms, Mama was always ready to share a song!

Yes, I can see my Mama in the bright colors and fun shapes of a geranium.  Oh, and the red is obvious to anyone who knew her – the red hair of the Fallin Family!

Happy Mothers’ Day!

 

Somebody’s Grandma Lived Here

melaniestokesart.com
This Old House
16×20 oil – SOLD

When I ride past an old house like this, I’m drawn to the image.  The architectural lines, the crumbling exterior, the welcoming porches, the trees framing and softening the landscape… And then my mind begins to imagine, “who lived here in days past?  how many children played in the yard?  did the family survive the hard times?  did someone remember to go back and visit?”

This old house is in Cadley, Georgia.  I don’t know anything about it, except the location.  I stopped to take a photo one morning simply because it was there in its worn, aged beauty.   Yet, to someone, somewhere, this house has meaning.  Someone’s Grandma probably lived here!

I have noticed, in recent days, some activity around this house that suggests renovation.  Oh, that we could look on all places and all people as something that has meaning to someone — something to respect and restore, to cherish, to ponder and to share.