Mom has alway's been creative. Painting, sewing, plastic canvas, needlepoint. After my Dad died in '96, painting was her grief therapy. She painted on anything. Rocks, wood, gourds. She had the knack of seeing something in a rock or piece of wood, then painting it to accentuate what she saw.
Last night I saw an example of this for the first time. It is my sister's, but I've never seen it before. I had to take a photo to show you. Despite my begging and pleading, my sister wouldn't let me bring it home with me (I wonder why?) so I could photograph it in natural light, so they don't do it justice. Still, check this out.
It is signed on the bottom 1998 Ma. Pre-Alzheimer's. Or at least, before we noticed anything amiss.