We’re in the kitchen today where still lifes, such as Jay’s Spatulas, continue to delight me in the morning – assuming I started the dishwasher the night before.
I’m not exact sure why I enjoy my husband’s post-dishwasher creations so much, but I do.
I’ve been taking photos of them for years, some of which you can see in this 2015 Challenge post.
My intent was to publish a downloadable book of his arrangements, and dedicate it to Jay and all other under-appreciated husbands in the world. Jay does a lot around the house, probably more than most husbands do (laundry too!), and doesn’t get the recognition for his contributions on a daily basis. But then, who does? Although my intentions are noble, I haven’t actually published the book yet, just gathered an extensive spatula photo collection.
And so I dedicate this painting to you, Jay Sloofman, as my way of saying thank you for being you, even though I may not say that every day. You’re a wonderful husband, and much appreciated – always! You are a bright light in all of our lives. A special thank you for supporting me during the Challenge. You make it possible. 🙂
Back to the spatulas. It’s important to understand that Jay started this on his own – not for paintings – and has been since we got married 37 years ago. His background as a Cornell Hotelie graduate and former restaurant employee permanently rubbed off on him. He’s in the habit of alternating utensils up and down to efficiently maximize counter space.
You can see my feet here on a step stool I keep handy to help capture these transient “installations”, if you will. I still called these grouping “spatulas” since they seem to anchor the compositions, and they were our first utensil purchase. Spatulas for eggs and spoons for soup and stews.
I consider Jay’s Spatulas a classic composition. It’s simple with 4 spatulas in it, some of which are multicolored, lots of black for contrast, spoons, and an ice cream scooper that Bonnie taught us to use for meatballs. It documents how times have changed and manufacturers livening up our every day kitchen life with the advent of brilliantly colored silicon utensils. The earlier black and white drawing couldn’t capture this dimension.
Jay’s Spatulas immortalizes one of our oldest spoons, the white one which partially melted in the dishwasher years ago. Somehow I have a sentimental attachment to that spoon. But then you know I like painting partially consumed food and other less than perfect things, so it mades sense in that context.
From the beginning, this painting just came together. Maybe that’s because it had been on my mind for so long. That’s not to say it wasn’t hard. It required a lot of very small brush work to keep those lines straight and the paint smooth.
I started with the background, then the colors, ending with the black, when my hand felt extra steady. I’ve been thinking I have to look into buying one of those hand bracing bars that attach to easels to minimize shaky lines.
I was glad I began this painting during the day, both for the natural light and the warmth. Even then, it was frigid outside and the fireplace (on the right in the photo) let in so much cold air that I was freezing after barely starting to sketch. Not a good thing. I opted for warmer attire that let me paint comfortably in my studio through the evening.
As I write this, the frigid temperatures have broken and I’m looking forward to going back into the studio in normal attire.
See you tomorrow!
Carol
Don’t know if it’s the delightful tale attached to “Jays Spatulas” or the marvelous painting. I love them both and they certainly complement each other. Here’s to another day of quality work. You are amazing.
Carol
Beverly
You’re an inspiration to keep blogging and painting away. Thanks for taking the time to comment.
Joan Tavolott
Lucky lady! A man with spatulas is a blessing. I like this!!!
Beverly
Can I quote you? I like that “A man with spatulas is a blessing”.