Most artists discover their talent and their desire to paint when they are in their teens or twenties, some even much later in life, or when they aren’t under pressure anymore to make a living. Mimi discovered hers when she was a year old. She was to nap in my cabin—we happened to be on a sail boat at the time—when she found my lipstick and set about painting her face, then her t-shirt, and her legs. Then she fell asleep with the happiest of smiles.
Throughout her school years her paintings won many prices. But not so at Berkeley University. Her art teacher at Berkeley wanted to see big blobs of grey and black; he deeply frowned upon her bright and cheerful colors.
Mimi’s father objected to her painting ‘on principle.’ In his eyes, painting was a waste of time. Being an only child—his father had died when he was four years old—he was not even allowed to play with other children; he had to read books. When Mimi was hired during her summer vacation to lead a class in painting, he was furious and did not allow her to accept it. He wanted her to have a ‘proper’ job. He made her get work in a library.
I often wonder where Mimi got her talent. Not from me. My talent for painting is less than non-existing. We had a wonderful art teacher, though, a gracious and lovely nun. She appreciated art and felt its impact with all her heart and soul. I’m still puzzled that she gave me an A-. I suspect that she loved my dancing—I did many solo dance performances/fundraisers for the Convent school I went to. Dear Sister Euphemia, she must have said many Pater Nostrums to atone for giving me an A-. And I can’t help thinking that it was her who saw to it that my daughter Mimi would be endowed with a great talent for art.
Mimi enrolled in Art School, but never went there—her father found out and made her go to Berkeley and enroll in Economics. After graduating, her father made sure she worked in a library. But luckily dear Charlie came along and married her. They found an old house that was affordable but totally dilapidated and needed every moment of Mimi’s time to restore it. But at night, Mimi sneaked into her study and painted. I was a great admirer of her art work and created a website for it. A few months later we discovered that a person in Texas was selling her paintings for good money. He had discovered her website, made photo copies of her paintings, put his name on them, and sold them. He certainly was “creative,” well, dishonestly creative.
One day, a gallery owner in Maui discovered the quality of Mimi’s paintings and offered to exhibit them in his gallery in Maui right by the ocean’s edge; and this is where they have been hanging and selling now for many years.
Mimi still travels the world showing her paintings, which by now are in many galleries. She has lost track of the number of paintings she has painted or sold. She’s too busy painting and completing commissions. In the meantime, Charlie, her dear husband, has turned into a marvelous cook. “You know,” he told me the other day, “Mimi is so happy when she’s painting! She wouldn’t eat if I didn’t cook.”
Until next time,
Rosi
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