“My dad has a painting in a museum,” I often tell people. It is true. I don’t know if it’s stored away in the basement along with other lost treasures, or what. As far as how often it was ever exhibited, I only know of one day for certain. I’ve told the story in some of my magazine articles and blogs before, and I find it comical. However, I feel it’s worth another spin.
It all started back in the early 50’s (incidentally, that’s in the last century). My father was spending a spell in the Veterans Hospital in Albuquerque, New Mexico. He was recovering from surgery on his ankle caused by a war injury (that’s WWII). During the recovering period he spent time with brush and canvas, painting a portrait of a “leather faced” Indian (as he described him – there was no “political correct” use in those days) from a nearby reservation. There were other artists in the same situation at the hospital, and they all decided to have an exhibit and invite the public. My father’s painting caught the eye of an elderly gentleman who seemed pleased with the work. Before the show was over the two made an agreement, and the elderly man left with the painting.
It wasn’t long after my father was released from the hospital that the purchaser of his painting passed away and left his art collection to the Albuquerque art museum. I was just a young person at the time, but I did read the newspaper article.
Sadly, I do not recall the name of the gentleman that bought my father’s painting, but the article was about his great donation to the museum, which included works of Charles M. Russell, Frederick Remington, and other famous “southwestern” artists. But the only artist in the article that I was interested in was that of my father. The newspaper posted a picture of my father’s painting to introduce the article. It was described as a “leather faced” Indian chief by a “local artist.” I can’t explain the pride I felt realizing that day that my father was somebody!
Below is a photo of the only painting I own of the many that my father painted. It is a painting of Signal Peak in southwestern New Mexico. The peak was made famous because it was claimed that the famous Indian chief, Sitting Bull, sent smoke signals from the peak. There is a beautiful waterfall inside the mountain, and I look at the painting remembering the many times we used to go up to the falls for “family time.”
