Saturday, August 22, 2020 “I have another portrait to show you,” says Auntie Bev with a mischievous grin at our gals group early this morning. She ducks out of the camera shot and then pulls another 8 x 12 canvas painting into view. It takes her some time to center the painting so we can see all of it. This one is even more ghastly than the first. It looks like Gilbert painted Uncle James while James was reclining in his easy chair. The angle is all wrong. Two-thirds of the painting is rolls of chin and jowls, and James’ eyes are just barely open. His skin has a pale gray tint to it, and while the painting of Auntie Bev threw me into laughter, this one causes me concern. Does Uncle James really look that awful? Believe we are all struggling to find something to say. “Does Uncle James know Gilbert is painting him while he is sleeping?” Dianne asks. Auntie Bev chuckles. “He told him,” she replies. “And what does he think of his portrait?” Beatrice asks next. “Well, you know his eyesight isn’t very good.” “James’ or Gilbert’s?” Beatrice asks. Finally, the tension is broken and we laugh, although my laughter is uneasy. “Maybe he can get his money back for those online art classes,” Dianne says. “I ought to warn you,” Auntie Bev says. “He has run out of people to paint, so he has started painting the pictures on my refrigerator.” There is a moment of silence and then we realize what this means. Last December, our gals group met at Auntie Bev’s house to have a Christmas tea, and it was at that tea party that Beatrice insisted we take a group photo. The picture came out nicely. We look happy and everyone is genuinely smiling. Beatrice printed pictures for us, and I happen to know that Auntie Bev remembers to pray for people by putting their pictures on her refrigerator. Therefore, we are now being immortalized in amateurish paintings.
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