My best people paintings come from photos that suggest a story to me. Nothing spectacular. Usually not posed, and with no special lighting. Even photos taken on a grey day with little color can tell a story so poignant it begs to be painted.
I found such a photo two years ago among my daughter’s snap shots of their summer vacation. Kali, then 8 years old, caught my eye, and I immediately captioned the shot Just a Moment to Myself… Please!, copied it to take with me, and eventually painted it.
I say eventually because, while I knew what it said to me, I had to let those thoughts brew. And then seemingly out of the blue one day I knew what I needed to paint to tell this story on canvas. 
What was it that drew me to it?
Her mood? Is she pondering?
Did she just need a quiet time to herself?
I put the 16×20 inch canvas in a wide scraped-white frame and presented it to my daughter, telling her the title and what I had seen in the snapshot. She just stared at it, then at me, and said You weren’t even there… but you got it!
That was the highest form of payment. 
That and where it hangs in their family room against the dark sand-colored walls.
Photos are treasures… especially the candid ones. They capture the people we love and know in the most personal ways. They give us pieces of their lives in little two-dimensional bites, yet write volumes on our hearts.
Do you have a favorite snapshot? When you clean your photo boxes pushed under the bed, or on the spare room closet shelves, does it take several days and boxes of tissues for wiping the tears of joy and fun and sometimes loss?
Coffee’s fresh– while thoughts keep brewing. Pour yourself some and share your thoughts…
Barb
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That is a beautiful painting Barb and I just love the story behind it. I too have several that are most precious to me. I love it when my girls visit and we look through them together. Lately it’s old kid papers we look through as I’m in the process of sorting, and we often find some hilarious things in there
Anita
I know what you mean — it’s hard to throw away, so after you’ve done your sorting and shared your fun, most of it will go right back where it was before.
My mom used to allow me into her room every year while she “cleaned” out her cedar chest. She lovingly held everything, retold me the stories, wouldn’t let me near my dad’s letters to her, and then just as tenderly put everything back. I think cleaning time was just memory time.
Thanks for sharing…
Barb
Its a lovely painting Barb; and I love the way it came to life.
Both my and my wife’s parents have passed away. Each of us was responsible for their estates. A lot of our time was spent going through old photos found in drawers throughout the houses. It delayed our getting things done, but was well worth all the memories.
ps: I envy all your talent and this is a great site.
You are very kind, Talmadge. Thank you.
My husband’s and my parents have also gone on… I relate completely with your story.
My sister recently published a biography of our dad. For over a year we, along with another sister, wrote and shared stories and old photos and newspaper clippings we copied and emailed to each other… memories. Perhaps I’ll write a post about that process. It was cathartic at least, as many emotions surfaced and rested, and richly rewarding at best.
I’m sure you and your wife had the tissue boxes at hand. Thanks so much for sharing this…
Love this post, you do have talent. I took a few classes in oil painting when my children were young (my youngest is now 39) I really did enjoy doing it altho I was never as good as you are. I do have a photo of two of my great grandchildren kissing good bye at a family gathering it would make a great painting.
gloria
Ahhh Barb my dear, I was just writing to someone about your talent for the lyric turn of phrase. Although I don’t have much time to visit blogs, whenever I pass by yours I always find something sweet or profound or life affirming there. One of my favorite places to visit…
Oh yes…btw, Lesson 5 is finished.
Oh Gloria… I hope you do get out your canvas and oils to paint your grandkids. Sounds like one of those poses that’s universal in its appeal.
Thank you, my friend “Nightshadow” for such a lovely comment. (I like your avatar… southern Florida?)
Look forward to taking another class from you starting next month.
I am so glad that you submitted this post to the Blog Carnival on inspiration. It is such a great example of how we can be inspired by a moment in time to tell a story.