Beige was the tone of the times. There were no shocking pinks or electric blues in our daily lives. I remember my mother's disapproving look when I spent birthday money on a bright red sweater. We were never to stand out or draw attention to ourselves, so laughter and silliness became our bright colors.
My parents were good, kind and creative people. And being of their time they funneled their creativity into the accepted modes, church and work.
My father had a beautiful baritone voice which he shared with the world through his solos at weddings and the church. He shared his gift of design and attention to detail through his work as a furrier.
My mother shared her love of theatre through directing and staging various productions of plays and musicals for fund raising at the church. And her writing skills through compiling a history the woman's contribution to the growth and survival of the church.
And that was my world growing up. Home, church, and school...or at least that was what I had always thought was my world...but in reflecting back, deeper into the layers I realize that it was so much more. My life growing up, much like a like a beautiful painting, was actually layer after layer of subtle colors and tones... the homes we lived in were always within walking distance to the ocean and that beautiful and expansive place was continually available to us... our church was quite liberal for the times and there I was introduced to Jewish traditions reflected in the life of Christ, unconditional love and compassion as taught by the Buddha and, of all things, physic phenomena...but deeper, much like the base coat of gesso on the canvas, were my father's words, "Remember the love"...
|"Daddy and the Daily News"/oil on canvas 1970/from BW photo 1940|
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