Women In Paintings

I have long suspected that the word is divided into portrait and landscape people and never the twain do meet for each and every one of us becomes almost fixated on he kind of art we are drawn to and find it difficult to imagine offering wall space to anything but.

Me, I am a people person. More specifically I a woman’s woman. I am drawn to junky oil paintings of women and girls, for reasons I barely understand. Certainly it has little to do with beauty – indeed some of the vaguely homo-erotic stuff  from the 1930’s could be considered far more appealing, so no, it isn’t about beauty, but instead about the stories I imagine these un-named female subjects could tell. The secrets I am sure they are keeping. A sense of female knowing perhaps, that I could never glean from a similar portrait of a man.

And so today, while my own man sweats profusely in the warm back yard, laying decking and chatting with the neighbours, I am here, crawling around the corridors of Ebay in search of woman I recognize, gathering kindred spirits for my own amusement and wishing there was enough wall space in this tiny terraced cottage to ask them to come find a permanent home here.

So how about you? What do you like to have on your walls? Do you too find comfort in yesterdays faces or would you find it almost ghoulish to hang portraits of those you don’t know on your walls?

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