Hanging Pots
A string of clay pots hang in the potting shed at my friend's house where I paint. I spent many months in Mexico this year and miss friends and certainly the food. Every time I glance at the pots fond memories of Mexico come to mind. Now I get why people collect souvenirs. It took awhile before I put two and two together though. If there were a place on Molokai to get good tacos I would have been rushing to town like Pavlov's dog.
Sweet painting, and done in record time? What is it about these simple, colorful objects that feels so warm and embracing? I too want to rush to Mexico and start eating corn tortilla tacos!
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