Today was supposed to be the revised painting I showed you yesterday, but the only time I lifted my brushes today was to paint my beloved mother in her hospital bed. I just returned home from spending all of today into the evening staying with her and authorizing comfort care. She's 98, had fallen, and has pneumonia and a fever. Why did I paint her? I painted her because I could do no less. It brings out from deep inside me the feelings I have for this remarkable woman, and allows me to really see her--etch her nuances forever fin my mind in these final days. It gives me something productive to do when one feels so helpless to change the course of things. I had my plein air gear and just set up next to her and did this little 5 x 7 canvas in oils. It's a very poor image, taken in almost twilight. I'll get a better one tomorrow. I may do another one when I get to the hospital again. These won't be for sale.
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