In the front parlor rested a settee, stuffed with horsehair to the point of concrete solidity. Covering its equine interior was rich upholstery of green and gold striped velvet. Ornately carved wood flanked its back and bottom. It was, however, as uncomfortable as it was attractive. Urban legend has it that my grandfather would enjoy an afternoon nap upon its long, shallow seat – a feat of near impossibility.
This excerpt is taken from the book “Holding Her Hand”, where the artist makes a personal commentary on each of the paintings. To read the full commentaries, the book is available for purchase.