Pride or Look What My Mommy Made
On a school trip when I was in elementary school we started at a brook that ran into town, climbed through the culvert under the road, and into the woods following the water up the mountain. It was spring, just before school let out and the water was cold, but it was fun. I don’t remember our feet touching dry ground, we just walked straight up the middle - leaping from rock to rock and wading through pools. We stuck our hands into the deep holes the water had cut in the granite bed. We came upon a rustic cabin in what felt like the deepest woods. The owners had carefully, over the years, dammed up the stream to create a lovely, deep, clear pool. Shortly after we emerged onto a dirt road, I was shocked to look around to find it was a half a mile from our house. I’d driven over it a thousand times and never thought about the stream - the universe widened. It’s the only full day I remember from Madison Elementary.
This is the stream; and one of my mom’s latest efforts. It’s interesting how the sense of discovery I remember is conjured so concisely by the painting. I don’t think she ever even heard my story about that day.
I hope it gets a home with a loooong hallway to do it justice.
Tags: acrylic, art, jay rancourt, madison, new hampshire, nh, painting, stream