Time went on and I moved into an apartment in Portland's West End, which of course involved a great deal of disruption to all my art and art supplies. At some point my aunt asked for a status update on her painting. Once it had been called back to my mind I decided to immediately cut the mat and get it back to her - especially since she would soon be moving to Maryland. I pulled out all of my paper art...and couldn't find it. I looked through my unused matting materials...and couldn't find it. I tore my studio completely apart and the painting was nowhere to be found.
Losing a piece of art is not like losing your keys. There is no way of exactly recreating the brushstrokes or the emotions the creating process evoked. A hole formed in my gut when I realized I had absolutely no idea where I had tucked away the painting. I called my parents to look through their house, my aunts house. Everywhere I could possibly imagine it would be. I had to finally admit to my aunt that her painting was missing. Over two years went by and every time the subject of the painting came up I wanted to cry. In this period of time I moved apartments again without the painting ever surfacing. The only scenario I could imagine was maybe I had placed it on the roof of my car when packing up and then driven away like people do with coffee sometimes (this scenario obviously did not make me feel any better). I truly thought it was gone forever. Thankfully my parents recently drove south to visit family in Maryland, including my sister and her husband at their new house. Somehow the subject of Aunt Barbara's painting came up while they were down there and the next thing you know I am getting a call from my mother - my sister had the painting in her closet! How did that happen, you may ask? My sister says, and I'm sure she's right, that I gave it to her to take down to Maryland. I have absolutely no memory of this. But I call my aunt right away and we rejoice that the lost is found. And I'm doubly thrilled that it was also discovered in the right state - only minutes away from my aunt's house. But then the other shoe drops. I hadn't cut down the mat before giving it to my sister to take south. So what does my aunt do? She proves that she is a very brave woman and sends it back north so that the artist can finish framing the painting (it is a very well-traveled watercolor at this point). The painting is safe, framed, and waiting to get picked up by my aunt when she comes for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. I have placed it prominently in the living room and told several people of its location - just to be on the safe side. And may I never be responsible for it again. Now have I learned my lesson about procrastinating? Let's hope so. But possibly a more important lesson for everyone else - once you have your painting in your hot little hand...absolutely do not give it back to me!!* *This is the only time anything of this nature has happened to one of my works of art. And all professional orders are timely and safely mailed.
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