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| Portrait of Ann Douglas, by John P. Douglas, pastel on paper, c. 1969 |
Last week I wrote, “My father loved Maine, painting, and
sailing wooden boats. Several times this week when I signed my paintings I
thought of how amazed and happy he would have been to see his daughter getting
paid to stand on a dock in Maine, painting wooden boats. Here’s to you, Dad. Thanks
for teaching me to paint and draw and sail.”
When a reader responded to the above by asking me to share
some of my father’s work, I hesitated.
I have only one piece by my father. This is a posthumous
portrait of my sister, who died at age 14. These were very dark days in my
family, because just a few years later, my parents also lost a son to a drunk
driver. If I had a choice of his work to share, it would not be the piece that
reminds me of such sad times.
My sister was a very larky girl. My father caught that, even
in his deep grief. Although done from memory, it’s a good likeness. Decades
later, I can still see the spark of her personality, which photographs never
seemed to capture.
My father was born in 1924. By the time he graduated from
high school, he could draw, he could letter, and he could print black-and-white
photos as well as most BFA holders today. He intended to go to art school, but
that plan was interrupted by WWII.
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| Can't imagine why signing my name while painting in Camden (bottom) would put me in mind of my father (top) |
I doubt my father taught us to paint and draw because he
wanted us to go into the arts—he just saw art as a basic function of a
well-rounded personality. And, I’m sure, he also wanted to keep us busy.
Join me in
October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if
you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for
more information on my Maine workshops!
