1000 words

Yesterday, I was looking at family pictures from my very young days and I came across an unexpected image. If you have read about my suspicions as to why I love and can draw sheep, you know the story of how my childhood stuffed lamb was left behind when my family moved from Spain to Canada when I was six. My lovely mom, who must have felt the loss as much or more than I did, gave me many many toy lambs over the years (into my 40s), until I had a collection that represented her love for me as much as underlined a connection with these creatures. The image is of my sister’s teddy bear and my little lamb hanging on a clothesline five stories high, after being laundered (a process that took about 5 minutes in the dry heat of Madrid). Yesterday was the first time I have seen an image of my lamb since I was young. I stared at it for a long time and am so grateful that my father, who was a wonderful photographer of life and art, took the time to document this moment.