I grew up in Atlanta with my three brothers. Although my parents did not have much money to collect art, they did manage to acquire some very nice paintings. I think a lot of them were gifts from friends who were artists, but some pieces were purchased. Their collection wasn’t monetarily valuable but it is very meaningful.
My father died suddenly in 1981 when he was just 52 years old. My mother lived to be 80 and when she died in 2011, my brothers and I had to divide her belongings and sell her house. And it was the paintings that all of us treasured the most. Not only because they were original works of art, but because they reminded us of our childhood, and our childhood home.
Today, we are grateful for the perspective of seeing life through the eyes of our parents and their artistic sensibility.
I love the paintings that I inherited, and when I visit my brothers, I love and seeing theirs. All the pieces have become important, treasured parts of our homes and may be for the generations to come.