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Tuesday, December 12, 2006

pomegranates



acrylic on wood
about 5.5 x 5.5 x 2inches each
One of the delights of winter afternoons is sitting and sharing a pomegranate with my son Max. He loves musing over the patterns, the tactics of peeling, and the rolling of the savory bits of seeds across his tongue. It ties in with memories I have of sharing afternoon, after school, pomegranates with a woman who helped rear me and is no longer alive. Her name was Mary and she died before my babies were born, but I feel her presence when I share a pomegranate and a few minutes peace with Max.
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