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Jan 30, 2025
Media: oil on French Canson paper
Size: 25.5x19.5 in
Did ya'll grow up in a warm, emotionally available, communicative family? Yeah, me neither. In fact, my best friend and I often joke about the stork not having Mapquest, or not understanding the assignment, or...OK let's face it; I am pretty quirky human, so I would have been a hard "placement" in lotsa families. Soooo, when I finally got to good therapy...the therapist agreed that my family of origin had been a weird fit, buuuut she probed, "There is usually at least ONE person (a relative, teacher, coach, etc) who totally 'saw' and 'got' you. And there WAS. It was my 'not biologically related' grandmother'. She had married my grandpa after his first wife died, and she never had children of her own. Maybe that predisposed her to take a little 'cuckoo bird' like me into her heart and nest, I don't know. But she took a little girl who just wanted to fit somewhere, and was being raised in a really peripatetic military family, and gave her an unchanging PLACE in the world. She taught me to swim (I was the only one in my fam who LOVED water), ride a horse (to this day, the smell of a horse is delicious to me!), burn brush on a ranch, and most importantly DO MESSY PROJECTS! There was no mess she wouldn't tackle with me. For example: I wanted to make candles...oh we didn't just make candles, we made 'lost wax process' candles, in empty milk cartons, using ice chips/chunks to make the candle come out all hole-y. And then it made a mess when it burned, cause the wax ran down out of the side holes...but oh man was it fun and PRETTY. AND it taught me that making a mess was totally fine, and that the most important thing was to remain curious, about MAKING things. So it's no wonder that I loved everything about my grandma...and when I see (or smell) anything that reminds me of her, I am flooded with a sense of 'home' and gratitude. So this "granny chic" movement in interior design (thank you Rita Konig) is totally my jam. Crocheted afghans? Heck yeah! Did ya'll grow up in a warm, emotionally available, communicative family? Yeah, me neither. In fact, my best friend and I often joke about the stork not having Mapquest, or not understanding the assignment, or...OK let's face it; I am pretty quirky human, so I would have been a hard "placement" in lotsa families. Soooo, when I finally got to good therapy...the therapist agreed that my family of origin had been a weird fit, buuuut she probed, "There is usually at least ONE person (a relative, teacher, coach, etc) who totally 'saw' and 'got' you. And there WAS. It was my 'not biologically related' grandmother'. She had married my grandpa after his first wife died, and she never had children of her own. Maybe that predisposed her to take a little 'cuckoo bird' like me into her heart and nest, I don't know. But she took a little girl who just wanted to fit somewhere, and was being raised in a really peripatetic military family, and gave her an unchanging PLACE in the world. She taught me to swim (I was the only one in my fam who LOVED water), ride a horse (to this day, the smell of a horse is delicious to me!), burn brush on a ranch, and most importantly DO MESSY PROJECTS! There was no mess she wouldn't tackle with me. For example: I wanted to make candles...oh we didn't just make candles, we made 'lost wax process' candles, in empty milk cartons, using ice chips/chunks to make the candle come out all hole-y. And then it made a mess when it burned, cause the wax ran down out of the side holes...but oh man was it fun and PRETTY. AND it taught me that making a mess was totally fine, and that the most important thing was to remain curious, about MAKING things. So it's no wonder that I loved everything about my grandma...and when I see (or smell) anything that reminds me of her, I am flooded with a sense of 'home' and gratitude. So this "granny chic" movement in interior design (thank you Rita Konig) is totally my jam. Crocheted afghans? Heck yeah! |
Available Paintings by Pamela Hoffmeister
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