© A.K.SIMON - Oh, the Smell of Peaches - 8 x 10" - oil
When I was young my paternal grandmother was a great cook. Though she died when I was young, to this day when I smell peaches I think of the cobbler she would make with fresh peaches. It's funny when you're young, watching someone transform fruit into something as heavenly as cobbler was like performing magic. I still admire the time she took to prepare all of the homemade dishes she would prepare for us when we would visit. My brothers, sisters and I (six of us) would often collect black raspberries on their property during our visits so grandma could make black raspberry jam (which BTW is synonymous with heaven in my memory) which we would enjoy with real butter and homemade bread for breakfast. My grandmother died of breast cancer back in the times when chemotherapy was so intense, and the surgery so radical that I believe the cure is what finally took her from us. My hope is that she really knew how much what she did meant so much to me.
I painted this painting once, wiped it off and painted it again. Maybe I was too distracted by the subconscious thoughts of cobbler potential. Oh, and the cherries could be something to occupy you while the cobbler cooks. The seeds are especially valuable for ammunition against annoying siblings.