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My Mother's Paintings
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Prose Poems My Mother’s paintings
My mother’s paintings are hanging all around our house, gladdening the corridor, the living and dining room with their amazing colors and drawings. My mother starts to paint when she was thirteen, whenever she was bored, she paints what she feels. Whether there were other things to do in her house, she preferred to paint things like a glass, a table with fruits and even a beautiful landscape with animals and a cabin. I remember this special one that was in my grandmother’s house, it was an amazing, beautiful and creepy clown that was in front of a mirror. It seems to be always watching you and your steps in the corridor. Also remember one that was on my living room that was an extremely realistic and natural landscape, with White Mountains, a little lake with a wood cabin in the edge and a dog chasing a chicken, this one is my favorite because since I was a kid, it has been in the living room. My mother’s paintings are a serious and important thing in her life, she stopped painting because of us, my brother, sister and I, but I think that it will change because, even though she feels sad the paintings restore her happiness, even she feels lonely, the paintings make her a good company, even if she feels angry, the paintings calm her down. Those paintings had been always there; they are like a part of my family life. I can’t imagine my house without those beautiful paintings, without their colors, without their presence, without their vivid animals and people. My mother’s passion is lost because she thinks that she doesn’t have time anymore, she doesn’t need to paint anymore, but I think that this passion will always live inside her, when she is ready to start again, when she feels a strong desire to express her feelings, there will be always a thing that she can do to heal this anxiety. I think that my family thinks the same that I think about those paintings, they are a strong and pretty thing in our lives and for that, I need to say thanks to my mother, thanks to her time and sorry for taking away that beautiful thing of her. But even though she doesn’t paint anymore, I will feel something special about her paintings, like that clown, it would never disappear of my grandmother’s house, even if it is not there anymore.
