Hi!
There's just something about fresh bread that makes a person feel warm and cared for.
I've shared before about my mother's bread-making skill and how I accidentally broke her last Amish Butterprint mixing bowl when I was sixteen years old.
Of course I didn't know to call it that way back then. It was just one piece in a set of commonly available mixing bowls. I was always fascinated by how one could see the color of chocolate chip cookie dough or potato salad right through the milky glass.
Once I settled into adulthood and looked for the same farm pattern I loved as a child, I found they were now collectors items. The few that I found on Ebay came with a hefty price tag. Most were not in great condition.
Still, I have managed to find a piece here and there. This little butter dish is one of them. The mixing bowls remain on my bucket list.
As I've worked on this painting over the past few days, the butter in the dish became very soft and the butter knife kept leaning. I kept having to set it straight over and over as I worked.
I finally managed to get the knife painted yesterday afternoon.
But the real trick was trying to capture the translucent qualities of the dish. When I finally felt I was close enough, after several thin glazes, I added in the blue-green rooster and corn pattern.
I may just have stumbled upon the reason I love the color aqua so much. I never realized it before this moment as I write to you.
Another thing,...is it really about the bread and butter?
I thought so when I started out, but I believe I was subconsciously painting a story about how I understand and appreciate my Mama better with each passing decade.
I'll let you know as soon as "Amish Bread And Butterprint" is finished.
In the meantime, I made some more fresh bread this morning. I think I'll save out a little for the sparrows and cardinals and spunky little juncos before I drag it into the studio and start on another bread painting.
Once it goes in there, I can't serve it to anyone.
Hmmmmmmm Food for thought, isn't it?
Take time for birdsong.
Jan
