Hi Subscriber,
I started this painting two years ago during the September Strada Easel Challenge. Two years!!
The composition presents so many opportunities to get it wrong that I have often wondered if I would EVER finish it. The struggle is real, people!
But the upcoming solo show has given me the motivation to follow through. That, and a little shift in perspective as I contemplated the backstory.
You may recall that this was inspired by the early days of our marriage when we hosted Thanksgiving dinner for some of our college friends, though we had practically no furnishings.
That first one saw twelve guests across three card tables covered over with a bed sheet. It took up the entire length of the living room, even when arranged diagonally.
We started the tradition because we remembered what it was like to be far from home and family on such days and had each been the grateful recipient of other people's hospitality.
You see, true hospitality is focused on the people in front of you, not the person in the mirror.
So it does not care about the size or location of your house. It does not care if there is clutter or that you missed a spot with the dust cloth.
It doesn't care that no matter how hard you try, your surroundings will never be as tidy as that dear friend...you know the one...whose home is always jaw-droppingly organized and spotless.
Thus it does not care that you hid the coffee stain on your tablecloth with the bowl of mashed potatoes. It only cares that you shared your table.
It doesn't care that practically everything you own was thrifted and bears the scars of half a dozen previous owners. It only cares that you offered a comfortable place to sit.
It doesn't care that your grammar was imperfect, only that you spoke kindness. Nor does it care that you are hard of hearing, only that you listened anyway.
It doesn't stress out when your guest spills pickled beet juice or breaks something. It only rejoices when you invite them again.
Hospitality cares deeply that you laugh with and not at!
Remembering all of this made me realize how important it is to finish this painting. Because it's not just an antique chair with a crystal glass full of polished silver. It isn't a crisply ironed table cover and cloth napkins.
It represents nearly half a century of people caring for us and in return trying our best to emulate them.
It's come a long way this week, but I still felt like something was missing. It just felt empty without a bird, so wouldn't ya know, I had to pencil one in last minute.
Let's hope it dries in time to go in the solo show just a few short weeks away.
