A Bird in the Hand, acrylic/collage, 18 x 22
Elizabeth W. Seaver
I had to apologize to two of my young students because I didn't use the title they came up with for this painting. They wanted me to call it Acrobird, which I really did like. But as I was varnishing the finished piece, that old saying popped into my head. Allie and Dahlia had never heard a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, and thought that was the dumbest title they'd ever heard of. Grown-ups are so weird, they said.
Well, I had to agree with them on that, and reassure them that I DID like their title. But when a title falls out of the sky, as it were, who am I to just let it lie there? Titling a painting is a dirty business. I mean how fair is it that you've taken all the time and trouble to learn to paint, gather the supplies, come up with the idea, prepare the substrate, paint the picture, repaint the picture, let it dry, varnish and frame it--and THEN have to give it a name? Bleah. All this is to say that when a title willingly presents itself to the artist's battered mind, it is a gift, and not to be left unopened and unappreciated.
So, my sincere apologies, girls. And thanks for the help with the hard stuff.
