I miss my dad’s Valentine’s Day cards.
It didn’t matter what it said, I just miss his signature, “Love, Dad”.
He passed away several years ago.
Soon after he passed, around Valentine’s Day, I read this blog post by my friend, Gwenn Seemel, who is a portrait artist. In her blog post, “Signature Style”, she wrote,
“I’ve never wanted to sign the fronts of my paintings….My decision originates on a very visceral level—the act feels like a desecration!—but there’s a logic to it too: signing art seems redundant to me. Shouldn’t the work itself represent the artist better than her-his name?”
No signature????? That’s all I remember about my dad’s cards!
When looking at a piece of art, I look first at the work, and second at the signature. I may recognize the piece, but the signature let’s me know it is from the artist.
I get some sense of satisfaction.
I know it’s from them.
I met with 5 art friends for brunch last Saturday. Carol Marine, Randall Tipton, Jo Reimer, Cathleen Rehfeld, and Celeste Bergin. We met at Randall and John’s house, everyone brought food (which was awesome!), and we spent the time getting to kno…Read More