The gold pears fool you into thinking they are just gold, but then when you look closely, you see blushes of red or green; just the reverse of the red pears. They are a beautiful and delicious symbol of fall, my mother's favorite season. I haven't been tempted to paint the "brown pears" (bosc?), because I love rich color. Now that I've said that, couldn't a bosc pear be cerulean, hmm.
Painting a pear is not as simple as it looks. I've seen beautiful giant pears on canvas, airbrushed to perfection. These pears are the elite, high society of peardom. They could live easily in a penthouse with high ceilings, white walls, black furniture and sleek chrome appliances. No dust on these pears please!
My pears come from Italy, where I would like to go. They are sun-kissed, misshapen, with knobby crooked stems and divots on the bottom that make them difficult to pose for my brush. One side is fatter than the other, some are dull and dry looking, others shine to perfection. To me, they say paint me, just me!
These pears speak to old-fashioned, textured wallpaper, splatters on the wall, maybe from testing the spaghetti, small prints, hominess. They hang out waiting for love and attention. I notice them and paint them with love and rich color!
So, here I am still in my pajamas reviewing the pears I started yesterday, adding a touch of dimension here and there. I'd like to go wash my face and brush my teeth and work in the garden, but.... they are ALMOST finished.
To see more of this obssession go to www.patbrookes.com or, www.etsy.com/shop/patbrookes
|3 mahogany pears 7x11 mixed media $150|
|1 red/green pear 7 x 11 mixed media $150.|