This painting was commissioned to hang in the bar area of the Langham Hotel in Boston, MA
There are lots of plantations in the American south. I was at one in Tennessee, and these books were set on a mantle, against period wallpaper. They were too old for me to read the spines, so I don't know if they were hymnals, fiction, farming almanacs, or journals. You aren't allowed to touch the displays, so I couldn't open them. They were just old and worn, and sitting there getting even older, not giving up any of their secrets. There was something intriguing about them. You can almost hear whispers of the plantation family and servants.
I have relatives like this. They have probably shared everything they remember, but I still feel like they are getting harder to question, and there are things in the family history that they aren't telling me. It's always a balance between what they want to divulge, what they can recall, what I imagine, and the way I phrase the questions.
This painting was commissioned to hang in the bar area of the Langham Hotel in Boston, MA