The Woman Who Painted The Seasons: A biographical novel about Lee Krasner, who had an eye for genius and a passion for art. by Penny Fields-Schneider

The Woman Who Painted The Seasons: A biographical novel about Lee Krasner, who had an eye for genius and a passion for art. by Penny Fields-Schneider

Author:Penny Fields-Schneider [Fields-Schneider, Penny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781922747082
Publisher: PFS Publishing
Published: 2024-05-15T16:00:00+00:00


Forty-Six

“We should have hung a sign on our gate saying ‘Go Away’ this summer, Jackson,” Lee said as they stood on their doorstep waving off his family after a disastrous weekend. This July was the first time the whole Pollock clan had visited, and it had started off well. Stella had praised everything about the house and garden. She’d loved the cantaloupe Jackson picked fresh from the garden and sliced, especially for her. Sande, Charles and Jay had been equally admiring of the house, the location, and of Jackson’s most recent work, and the children had run freely, dashing from the house to the creek, and enjoying the trip they’d taken to Louse Point for a swim, and to collect shells for them to take home. But by Sunday morning, it was as though the novelty of all being together had lost its shine, and the hours had dragged.

“It was awful, wasn’t it? I hadn’t realized how boring they all are until this weekend.”

“I don’t know, Jackson. I’m not saying the fault is theirs. You and I eat, sleep and breathe art. To them, we’re probably the boring ones. I’m sure I’ve forgotten how to talk to anybody who doesn’t paint for a living.”

Sure, Jackson’s brothers still painted when they could, but Charles was working full time teaching calligraphy at the Michigan State University, while Sande was preoccupied with caring for his young family. On Sunday morning Jackson had tried to generate conversations about art, but quickly his efforts soured, particularly when he spoke of how his paintings were presently being shown in Venice, after which they’d go to Milan. Distracted by the demands of his children, Sande told Jackson to give it a break—they’d all had enough of hearing how terrific he was.

Lee could have wept for Jackson. She knew it wasn’t his intention to brag. Rather, he was desperate for his family’s approval. He wanted them to know how, after years of illness and dependence upon them, he was now achieving success. It saddened her to see his attempt backfire, instead making him appear utterly self-absorbed. She’d tried to fill the gap but had nothing to say to Jackson’s siblings and their wives beyond banal statements about cooking or the garden. On the upside, as they left, Sande’s hug had been warm.

“Thank you, Lee. You’ve done a marvelous job with Jackson. He’s looking great, and it’s really nice to see him happy at last.”

Lee shrugged off the praise, which echoed what Arloie had told her earlier that morning, though she’d been a little more explicit.

“Without you, Pollock would be dead. You’ve kept him off the booze, so I guess, even though I think he’s a self-centered so and so, we’ve got to be thankful for that.”

Lee wasn’t sure whether to nod in agreement or defend Pollock’s character. She did neither.



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