Red Headed Romance
Finding original art at thrift stores is an exercise in perseverance. The old adage “you’ll kiss a lot of frogs” springs to mind – I marvel at the shear amount of stuff I dig through. Because to find a treasure, you most certainly have to dig. And there is a commitment to this process as well – people who “thrift” will go to their favorite haunts a few times a week, as finding that treasure is directly related to “being there” when items are put out for sale. Since most thrift stores are simply in the business of moving items, there is not typically a schedule to this.
I had noticed, however, that my fave haunt was not adding artwork very often. Entering into a discussion with a volunteer, I learned there was a need for someone with an art background to help with the sorting and pricing. I certainly fit that bill! Now I volunteer at the store, sorting through the piles in the storage area to determine what is of value and what is not. Besides the fun of uncovering original art, researching it on the fly, and helping the manager decide what to display, I get to see what is donated first hand. And as a bonus, I get to pick up treasures before they head out for sale.
This charming small oil painting is, to date, the only treasure I have brought home in the past 6 weeks. It was painted in 1972 by Mary Vickers (born 1940), a British artist. There is a charming flyer tucked in the back of the canvas, letting us know Vickers is a “modern day Romantic. No artist paints more eloquently the rejection of drab reality.” The flyer explains she was influenced by studying the art in London museums, particularly of the Romantic movement. This particular painting was presented at a “one-man show scheduled for Paris” in Spring, 1972.
The painting brings to mind my childhood of the 1970s. While the colors of that era were bright, filled with flowers and smiley faces, the reality of the 1970s was a different story all together. Vietnam, political protests, young generations seething with discontent, to say nothing of the significant lack of women’s rights. This artist’s work certainly rejected the drab reality of the times. A brightly lit woman with flowing red hair and blue eyes. She wears a vibrant yellow hat with a pink polka dot scarf, all set against a neon green and yellow background.
My 1970s childhood was very sheltered. My parents restricted television, and we had one black and white set in a basement rec room. We were only allowed a certain amount of tv watching each week, which, I vaguely recall, was two hours total. Books were unlimited – I could read anything I came across. (Those 1970s trashy novels I “borrowed” from a friend’s mother certainly set the stage for a future guilty pleasure!) As we did not have television going during our days, the visuals of the Vietnam War and the protests roiling the country were hidden from me. I do recall I would sneak down to the playroom late at night so I could binge watch television (2 hour limit be damned). As this was the time of traditional tv, limited to the channels received by antennae, that did not include 24/7 news. What played at night were very old movies, Twilight Zone shows and horror flicks. I scared myself to bits, which may explain my continued reluctance to watch anything “horror” based.
I recall a playmate of mine from that time had an older sister who was very active in the anti-war movement, and so I understood to some degree there was discontent, and a war, going on. She had dog tags from a soldier in Vietnam, and at some later point, a young man entered the picture. In my childish perspective I assumed he was her “husband”, though in retrospect, I have no idea that was accurate. I found her fascinating, and she had red hair to boot.
Amusingly, if you turn to The Oracle, you can find may “theories” about the origin of red hair. It seems it is due to a mutation in the MC1R gene, and originated in Central Asia, or possibly Africa. That said, it is most frequent in areas of Northern Europe, specifically those of Celtic origin. While many of us think those pillaging Vikings were the root, it turns out that is exactly backwards. Scottish and Irish Celts were taken – likely as slaves – by the marauding Vikings back to Norway, adding red hair to that gene pool. As the gene is a recessive trait, it must come from both parents for the offspring to be a redhead. (1)
Having red hair turns out to be rare, as only 2% of world’s population are redheads. In addition, being blue eyed with red hair is even more rare – a 0.17% statistical chance. My paternal grandfather was a redhead with blue eyes (WSH 1890 -1968), and a few of his children were as well, though not my father. In addition, my mother seemed not to be blessed with the recessive red head gene, as 7 children turned up not a single red head.
Back when I was kissing a bunch of frogs, the prince I landed on turned out to be 100% Polish. With brown eyes (dominant). So our children didn’t stand a chance of inheriting red hair. They do, however, carry the recessive gene from my paternal grandfather. And I find it interesting BOTH my sons married red headed women! I’m keeping my fingers crossed for redheaded grandchildren. Romantic indeed!
(1) https://www.eupedia.com/genetics/origins_of_red_hair.shtml