|"Homestead Memories," 12 x 12 acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas|
Where did you grow up? Was there an old family home?
I was thinking of that this past week as more than a half-million freedom-loving people were being driven from their homes in Ukraine. Their flight for survival means leaving possessions and memories behind as a Russian tyrant invades and commits war crimes. Real patriots are fighting and dying for real freedom there.
Meanwhile, in America, spoiled, selfish and shallow so-called patriots, in convoys and on street corners and in public meetings are protesting vaccination and mask mandates as violating their cherished inconsequential "freedoms." It would be laughable if it weren't so stupid and tragic. That tells you all you need to know about what's wrong with America these past very few years.
This anger has been brewing inside me for longer than the Russian invasion, but the character and courage of the Ukrainian people contrasts so strongly with these people who are wrecking America. They're causing a ruckus over masks and then go home to their air-conditioned homes. Pathetic.
It's time for Americans to remember what is important, like the old home place. I didn't know it when I started this painting, but it is in response to my emotional reactions to all of this.
Thoughts took me down Oklahoma's back roads, though small towns, seeing the many frame houses, some still occupied, others abandoned, all carrying stories and memories.