I did a series of these faces when we were facing the loss of our business in 1986. They are dated, but I didn't bother to arrange them in order. There's a few more.
I didn't paint yesterday. I was feeling distraught about my ring. I did pray to the good Saints suggested by Rita, of Rita Vaselli Watercolors, and Konstantina, of Konstantina Polychroniou, but so far they're still looking along with the Big Guy and no ring has magically reappeared. I'm just sick about it--not as sick as I was when the business went under and I did these Rapidograph drawings --but sick and violated even though the loss is my fault. I keep the two rings I wear whenever we go out in a little porcelain dish on my dresser, right there out in the open. It's my house, I shouldn't have to lock stuff up. When I went to wear it Friday night, it was gone and in its place was a costume jewelry ring I never wear because it's too tight. That's the clue that someone was messing with the jewelry. It could have been my grandchildren playing treasure hunt, (I did that, so did my older son and his friend). It could have been my cleaning lady. It could have been hidden and forgotten about or lost in the trash. Whatever it could have been, it's gone and I'm beating myself up over it.
It's not insured. Ellis and I long ago decided that insuring jewelry was throwing money away. It cost to appraise it. It cost yearly premiums to carry the floater and when you do lose an insured item, you do not get anywhere near what it cost to replace it, because they depreciate the item. Besides, this ring was irreplaceable. It was an heirloom. It belonged to, who gave it to, who gave it to a trusting, sloppy fool like me. So I'm in a state of sulk. These drawings say just how I feel , (particularly the top one, which was the last one drawn just as the business closed its doors),as I walk from room to room cleaning drawers, moving furniture, going through pant pockets and jackets and even the rag bin and washer and dryer and vacuum bags. It's nowhere. And the worst thing is, I don't remember the last time I wore it. I've been painting a lot. I do not paint bedecked in jewels. One line from the song That Lovin' Feeling keeps going through my head:
It's gone, gone, gone woa, woe, woe. I think I'm heartsick. I know I'm really pissed off at myself.