All My Missing Artwork

I don't have any of my own artwork up in my house anywhere. Not a single piece. Not too long ago, a woman who lives here in town who is a storyteller by profession (how many of them to do you meet in a lifetime?) was walking by and invited herself into my house to see it and be given a tour of it. Odd, yes, especially since I had never met this woman before, but as I know she lives in a very old house and I live in a very old house, I understood her curiosity in seeing what David and I had done with our house as opposed to hers, which is just a mile or so from ours. (David and I have actually seen her house before as it was on the historic house tour one year and we went through it, though she didn't know this at the time).

Well, anyways, we went room to room with me pointing out what we have done and what we plan on doing and she offered her opinions on many things; some quite astute and some, like herself, very odd. She asked me what I do and I told her I'm an artist and she told me she's a storyteller who performs regionally (I knew this already) and as we roamed about my home, she began to ask, "Is this one of your paintings?" each time we passed a different work and each time I replied, "No, I didn't paint that." When she finally just came out and asked me if any of them at all in the house were mine, I had to answer that there wasn't a single painting of mine in here. I have never found this to be curious as I would far prefer to look at others' work than my own (since I can see my stuff any old time and frequently do), but she found it strange. Honestly, I had never given it much thought nor do I believe has anyone else who lives in my house or, prior to her visit, anyone who has just been in my house (or maybe they have thought it odd but just never said anything).

But of late I have been thinking about this. Maybe I should have something that is mine in here somewhere. I actually have two places right now in need of artwork: a corner wall in the living room that until recently had a lovely Charles Franklin Pierce cow painting on it and an entire wall up one side of the stairs that has never had a piece on it but has simply been begging for something to adorn it since we moved here. I've been toying with some subject matter and think that perhaps after the holidays, when life settles back down to its usual dull and uneventful self, I'll start a painting for one of those two spaces. Both will have to be fairly large, so either will be a considerable amount of work, but I think I might enjoy this.

Looking at the finished product every day, however, might be a different story.