I imagine she put quiet a guilt trip on her son. Wasn't he off gallevanting about London, painting his high society portraits while mother was back at home waiting for his letters? I put my son on the plane yesterday after only 41 hours of visiting, and it was hard to let him go. Where is the balance to be found between loving his company and then letting him go? My memory is saturated with precious moments gone by, and saying goodbye really wrings the juice from my heart. But these are his times. He is looking to his future. And kids rarely look back. I didn't look back myself until I hit 40. Don't worry, I'll be happy. I've got paintings and students waiting for my attention.
I did this painting today as a demonstration in class of a cartoon parody.
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