Recently, I was trying to think of the first thing that I ever painted. Well what do you know, it's a folk art decorative thingy. I've long attributed my weird style (that has been called 'folk' by my professor, while I was in art school...in a bad way), to that folk art class I took with my mom. That puts my age automatically under 14. It's looking like 10 or 11 years of age is when I officially started painting.
The piece of folk art in question has been hanging in my dad's kitchen since I left it. I requested he take a photo of it for me today so you all could see it. This amusing conversation ensued:
me: 'Are you in the kitchen? Can you look up above the desk? Are there two circular-shaped, wooden, wreath cut-outs by the window sill? Is one of them blue?'
my dad: 'Yes, they are still here. Let's see...one is sort of an orange color. It has a hen on it...some kind of flower...'
me: '...What about the blue one, the blue one...
my dad: '...This one has...it's not quite a hen...oh, let's see...I guess it's...it's a duck...?'
me: '...Is that the blue one, is the blue one more crude-looking?'
my very honest dad: 'Yes, the blue one is crude compared to the orange one.' *hearty chuckle*
me: 'That's because it's most likely the first thing I ever painted!'
my dad: *speaking through foot in mouth* 'Oh!' *hearty chuckle*
(okay, maybe it's not as hilarious written, as it was listening to him, baffled, trying to describe what kind of a bird was on mine.)
I think it's a very fancy dove.