Art should not match your sofa

When you have lived somewhere for a long time, you sometimes become inured to the beauty (or tackiness) around you. 

This painting has hung in the same place on the same wall for well over 30 years, I know I've moved it only to paint the wall.  Until recently, I haven't given it much thought looked at it . . . really looked at it.  That's odd since it's one of my favorite pieces of art. 

I love it because it was admired by three of my favorite people.  My mother painted it sometime in the 70s when she was an art student.  In bell-bottoms or a handmade calico dress, she went down to the beach and sketched it out in oil.  Then she brought it home to do the finishing touches.  If I'm remembering everything correctly, she gave it to my grandmother as a gift and my grandfather made the simple wooden frame. 

Now that I look at it, I realize that it has other merits.  I love all the shades of blue and green that create the layers of sky, clouds, ocean and waves.  I love the way the frame's glossiness compliments the rough surface of the canvas.  Most of all, I love that my grandmother hung it across from her bed, so it was the first thing she saw every morning. 

My grandmother would have been 99 years old today.  Joyeux Anniversaire Grand-mere!