Another Mother's Day Post

I recently ate a pear. I like the taste of pears, but honestly, I believe my truest enjoyment of them comes from their colors. The various greens, yellows, golds, and sometimes browns are so stunning when done in the texture of pear skin and the inside is one of the most beautiful neutrals around. When I eat pears, it's always about the feast for my eyes more than it is the taste of it. 

It's always also about my mom. I've mentioned before that my mom was a painter when she was a teen. I have a few of her pieces, but the majority of them burned during House Fire #1. One of those pieces was a study in pears. Several were cut open, but most were in and/or spilling out of a bowl, in all of the glorious shades of pear. I remember being very young and staring at it. I loved the piece, as much as I loved the nude of the woman with the large butt and my mom's books where I first saw Bosch's work. 

I will give credit where it's due, even if the person didn't do it on purpose. I mean, I doubt my mom thought "let us shape the Child to love art by exposing her to art, both famous and personal' but that is exactly what she did. It opened up something inside of me, something I am very glad I have. I'm glad I had that exposure and I'm thankful that I love pears, for all they have to offer.