"The Kitchen Cloth and Tomatoes"

6x8, oil on canvas board

During our vacation in Japan, the house we stayed in had some cotton dishcloths hung up by the sink. Just normal, everyday, household items. But one of them was this simple blue cotton piece with a white design (also in the painting from two posts ago). So normal, but so gorgeous, and with what sure looked like hand stitching at the edges. I found some warm-colored tomatoes to contrast with the cool blue, and arranged them and, well, here it is.

Now, you have to understand that I was painting in a room with one central light. I put the items on a chair, closed the curtains (I couldn't see the lake!), and blocked the remaining light by hanging a jacket across the back of it (the chair). It was a bit dark, but fun. The wood of the chair (here masquerading as a table) was actually more gray and weathered than this. Isn't weathered wood beautiful?. But I couldn't seem to mix the wood color.

What I paint seems to be a combination of the intimate (which I love) and the graphic (which I also love). I have no idea if this makes sense or not. But, as I've said before, this painting thing is weird. For most of my life I've gotten by on the strength of my brain and logic. Painting makes me pay attention to internal urges shaped by what I want and like. It's just not something I'm used to. Cool!

When we left, I bid a fond farewell to the kitchen cloth and left it to live out its kitchen destiny.