. . . painted a memory

Tentatively entitled "The Edge. . .of Night", 16 x 16 mixed media on canvas

I had an idea to keep this painting kind of light and clean -- but it sure didn't end up that way. When it was done, it reminded me of was the old television soap opera, "The Edge of Night", and the very dramatic intro to the show.

In the 50s, during the summer my mom would set up two ironing boards and put my sister and me to work doing the tons of ironing required for a family of six kids and three adults. We had no air conditioning, and my mother closed the curtains in the living room to keep the house cool, but it didn't really help much. Of course, my sister and I protested long and loud, especially since our brothers were probably at the swimming pool. Those were the days that crisp white cotton sleeveless blouses were de rigeur for the pre-teen set, and we ironed millions of them, as well as sheets, pillowcases, my father's handkerchiefs, all of our play shorts, my brothers' and dad's shirts, even sometimes my mom's bras. We had a mangle (aptly named) but we didn't get to use it, because it was too dangerous. The only benefit to this task was that it was one of the few occasions we got to watch the afternoon soaps on TV, and since we received only one station with any clarity, we watched CBS: As the World Turns, The Guiding Light, and The Edge of Night. Oh, the mysteries of unrequited love -- and how could somehow who was not married have a baby?