chang|e one's mind

i wrote a song… in my mind

i’ve been framed

with 2 comments

travel back in time with me to 8th grade.  i was in middle school taking art class.  i had made this collage thing recreating the modernist marc chagall’s painting, “the birthday.”  i didn’t think anything of it.  i did it because it was an assignment.  the teacher actually wanted me to add some paint to the “walls” of the painting using a sponge, which i totally disagreed with but did anyway because she said so.

toward the end of the semester, she informed me that the school was having an art auction for all the art students and that my marc chagall piece was to be featured and auctioned off.  i was a little surprised cause i thought my other stuff was way better than this sponge-painted rip-off of a chagall masterpiece, but it’s not like i can tell her that her taste is whack.  she was my art teacher, after all.  so my parents and i attend the auction.  it was probably the first, if not second school function they’ve actually attended with me.  the bidding started and i marveled at other peoples’ works of art that seemed to overshadow mine.

my piece was up and my dad put in what i thought to be a sympathy bid for it to start the bidding off.  i was surprised when another stranger also bid for it.  back and forth it went between my dad and this mysterious stranger for about 2 bids each and the bidding paused with the other guy in possession of my piece.  i thought, “sweet!  go ahead, take it!  i think it sucks.”  the auctioneer then looked at my father and jokingly said, “it’s your turn.”  my dad then put in the final bid at $55 i think and we took it home, much to my disappointment.

when we got home, my mother said, “we must frame this.”  i disagreed, saying that it was just an assignment i had to do that ended up costing us $55.  my mother, however, strongly urged we get it framed and put up in our house.  we went to michael’s and she picked out a frame and about a week later, we picked it up and it went on top of our mantel in our living room, replacing a cross-stitched picture of some roses that had been there for the last couple of years or so, in plain view for all to see.  i always wondered why she put it up there.  it seemed so out of place and tacky and, i still believe, still just a sucky piece of art.

fast forward to two weeks ago.  i find myself at jo ann’s fabric and craft store looking for a frame to put a picture i had bought from jamaica in.  i had no choice but to get it custom framed as it was a work on canvas and you’re not supposed to put it in a glass frame.  i got a quote, thinking that it would just be a couple bucks since they just had to put in on a stretch bar and was amazed at how expensive it was.  and that was with a 50% off discount.  as i paid and left the store, i had a flashback of going to michael’s with my mom and getting my artwork framed.  i realized that my art must’ve costed so much more to frame than i paid and i wondered why my mom did it.

she did it cause she supported my gifts and talents.  she did it because she loved me.  and it just floored me.  that’s why she put it on display in our living room for all to see.  this piece of art that i thought was terrible that my mom treasured as if it were an original marc chagall painting that she purchased  at a real art auction then meant a lot to me at that moment.

i have been framed by my mother and father.  and i am so thankful.


Written by enoch

February 9, 2010 at 11:57 am

Posted in Uncategorized

2 Responses

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  1. beautiful memory, beautiful family 🙂


    February 9, 2010 at 12:39 pm

  2. dang. that’s the gospel right there. worthless sinners framed as being righteous by God.


    February 10, 2010 at 5:40 am

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