I said I’d share more of dad’s art so here we go. This was just some of the stuff downstairs, I’ll need to dig out the rest.
Some of them are water colors, some of them are oils, some of them are replicas of existing paintings that he did for my mother because she liked them. I’ve covered up his name because I’m not about to doxx my dying father, lol. But if anyone does recognize his art from various galleries across Glasgow, zip it.🤐
Sorry the lighting isn’t that great. It was overcast outside and apparently half the bulbs in this house need replaced.
These were some of the paintings and sketches he drew for my nursery growing up. There’s a Lion King one somewhere that I’ll need to find and dig out, but he read Peter Pan to me so many times as a child he can still quote the opening chapter from the original J. M. Barrie, so he did hundreds of Peter Pan paintings for me. I think this is the only one that survived.
He also did a lot of boats and landscapes, as well as taking us to the old Museum of Transport in the west end of Glasgow to sketch the old buses, cars, trams, you name it. He sketched it.
I’m struggling to find a lot of his still life pictures but I suspect they are in the dreaded attic. More to follow in the reblog.
This last on here is my father’s final painting finished earlier this year. I know he’s not happy with it and complained that the proportions are all wrong and his hands were too shaky, but all I can see is the hands of a father who once took plain rolls of wallpaper and pinned them carefully to my mother’s pristine walls to be taken down later so he could paint the house to look like a pirate shipwreck for my 7th birthday.
There were mermaids and sunken treasure chests. It took us until my next birthday to find all the gold coins he hid through the house for my friends to find.
God, families are complicated.
