One of the pieces is a pair of cherubs holding one of those air plants. This we picked up one weekend when we upped and went to New York city's Greenwich Village for a few days. We were just walking down the street and noticed some activity in a school playground. There was a flea market of sorts going on there, so we looked around. We spotted the cherubs lying on a table with other plaster items, many of them not fully dried yet. We asked how much they were, and the man said $10, so we bought them! We handled them very carefully, as we did not want to damage them as we brought them home. Once home, and after they had dried thoroughly, Ginny took a small knife and scraped off the excess plaster. They have been hanging in our living room ever since.
Another piece of art is a small watercolour painting done by a man named C. Booth Farcus. C. Booth was 90 years old when we first met him at a local outdoor art show. He painted these wonderful landscapes of different places, all small paintings, all framed, ready to hang. All of his paintings sold for $35 or less, but, there was a catch. Every woman who purchased one of his paintings had to give him a hug as well.
C. Booth was an interesting man. I wish I had been able to spend more time with him and learn some of the history behind his life. He had an artist friend by the name of Cliff Satterwhite, also an artist, who suffered from a mental disability. Cliff was younger than C. Booth, but C. Booth took care of Cliff. In all the art shows they participated in, it was C. Booth who made sure that Cliff got there safely, was able to put his display stand up, and hang his paintings. Then, of course, C. Booth had to do the same for his own work.
C. Booth would sell every single painting he brought with him, whereas Cliff would never sell a thing. It was not that Cliff's paintings weren't good, because they were excellent, it was because Cliff would not let go of one of his "family". Cliff's paintings were amazing! The man could take a photograph in black and white and create a beautiful painting using little dots of colour, somewhat like pointillism, colours that made one think they were looking at reality instead of a painting. But, Cliff only entered art shows where there were monetary prizes. He just did not want to sell any of his paintings.
There was a man who came by his display stand one show, and saw a painting he really liked. The price was $2200. The conversation went as follows:
"How much is that painting?"
"You don't want that painting," Cliff replied.
"Yes, I do," said the man. He walked over and looked at the price, took out his checkbook and wrote a check. After tearing it out, he went back to Cliff.
"Here," said the man. "I want that painting."
Cliff shook his head. "You don't want that painting."
The man held out his check to Cliff, whereupon Cliff took it, and tore it up while repeating, "You don't want that painting."
The man gave up and walked away.
C. Booth told us that Cliff's mother had left a trust fund for Cliff to live off of, and it was administered by his brother. He said if you ever went into his house you would find paintings stacked against the walls of every room in the house.
I felt back then that once Cliff passed away, he and his art would become very well known. I do not know if Cliff is still alive. I can't believe C. Booth is, as he was 90 when we met him, and that has been many, many years ago. I do, however, cherish the memories of both of them and their ability to make others lives richer simply by being who they were, and giving to us who were fortunate to know them beautiful memories of themselves and their paintings.
