Wild Violets: A Viewer's Story
A small painting is a simple thing, yet it can touch places in ones being in ways that nothing else can. The following is an elegant story by a viewer related to a painting I created May 2007. I thought this may help to explain one reason daily painters continue to do these small works.
The painting:
Wild Violets for Mother's Day
Not for Sale: painting sold May 2007
The story:
Dear Mr. Wolber,
Tonight, while searching for a picture of wild violets, I came upon your beautiful painting Wild Violets for Mother's Day. Although I never write e-mails to strangers, I felt compelled to write to you and tell you how much your painting touched my heart and provided me with comfort. As a child, a field of wild violets grew in my grandparents front lawn. Every time I would visit my grandparents during the spring and summer, I would always pick my grandmother a bouquet of wild violets. I use to slink into the house with a bunch hidden behind my back, and tell my grandmother to close her eyes for a surprise. Even though she knew what was hidden behind me, she always played along. A smile would always be across her face when I handed her her present, and the wild violets would go right into a shot glass filled with water. There they would sit until they were bent over and dying or until the next time I would visit and pick a new bouquet. This tradition went on for many years. Twenty five in fact. However, this year, my grandmother was not able to get her bouquets of wild violets. After a long battle with many illnesses, she passed away before the wild violets had a chance to bloom. Many nights since she passed, I catch myself missing her terribly. Tonight was one of those nights and it was such a comfort to come across your painting and see the wild violets again. You captured their beauty and simplicity wonderfully. Every time I come across your painting, I will think of my grandmother and the wonderful bond we shared. Thank you for painting this picture. Although I am sure you have touched the lives of many people with your art, tonight you have touched mine.
Thank you again,
S. Bryan
Reprinted here by permission of the author.
© Copyright by Paul Wolber 2008
The painting:
Wild Violets for Mother's Day
Not for Sale: painting sold May 2007
The story:
Dear Mr. Wolber,
Tonight, while searching for a picture of wild violets, I came upon your beautiful painting Wild Violets for Mother's Day. Although I never write e-mails to strangers, I felt compelled to write to you and tell you how much your painting touched my heart and provided me with comfort. As a child, a field of wild violets grew in my grandparents front lawn. Every time I would visit my grandparents during the spring and summer, I would always pick my grandmother a bouquet of wild violets. I use to slink into the house with a bunch hidden behind my back, and tell my grandmother to close her eyes for a surprise. Even though she knew what was hidden behind me, she always played along. A smile would always be across her face when I handed her her present, and the wild violets would go right into a shot glass filled with water. There they would sit until they were bent over and dying or until the next time I would visit and pick a new bouquet. This tradition went on for many years. Twenty five in fact. However, this year, my grandmother was not able to get her bouquets of wild violets. After a long battle with many illnesses, she passed away before the wild violets had a chance to bloom. Many nights since she passed, I catch myself missing her terribly. Tonight was one of those nights and it was such a comfort to come across your painting and see the wild violets again. You captured their beauty and simplicity wonderfully. Every time I come across your painting, I will think of my grandmother and the wonderful bond we shared. Thank you for painting this picture. Although I am sure you have touched the lives of many people with your art, tonight you have touched mine.
Thank you again,
S. Bryan
Reprinted here by permission of the author.
© Copyright by Paul Wolber 2008
