Eons ago I had a relative that used to call women tomatoes (pron. ta-MAY-tas). He thought he was funny; I thought he was an ass. Thanks to divorce I am no longer in that man’s orbit, but as I painted these luscious and sweet toms yesterday I pondered the widely accepted use of sexist labels. So demeaning. It makes me want to throw squishy, ripe tomatoes in his direction. And I do think we all are becoming more aware and respectful. But wow, those colors! (How’s that for a pivot?) So deeply red and gorgeous. I bought more of them yesterday from a produce stand in Mill Valley and they are already arranged on the table for another painting. Trying some new and fun painting techniques — loosely painted areas first, then pen, then more paint if needed and maybe some acrylic pen work. These beauties are a celebration of summer — however hot, smoky, isolated, worried and politics-obsessed my days are, I can still enjoy the bounty of a farm-fresh fruit stand. I’m adding that to my gratitude list.
7″ x 10″ watercolor, pen on paper = $90