Sent to LV who I felt needed to have a laugh.
Text:
After retirement my mother worked her way through all the “active senior” art classes my local college had to offer. This was the final project for her landscapes class. My family refers to this as the last of the “normal stuff”. After she took the figure drawing course things started to get surreal. She learned how much she liked veins. All the figures she painted had obvious apparent veins on them. With each iteration the veins got bigger. She no longer drew full figures...tending to focus on particular body parts. Veiny hands. Forearms. Necks. The veins in the temples and forehead. So many varicose vein addled legs...so many. Then something broke. Enormous breasts with dark green bulging veins - broken switchbacks working up to eerily lifelike aureolas. For Christmas, my mother presented my father a painting she worked on all autumn. After peeling back the brown paper to reveal a painfully engorged close up of the shaft of a penis, the room fell silent. Admittedly there was extraordinary detail in the vessels of the prick you’d think the jute rope thick veins were pulsating. My father hung it above the toilet. It’s still there to this day.
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