wood slice paintings

My father was a collector of many things, and my favorite was his wood slice paintings. They remind me of him and of California, where I used to live. (Some of you may remember, I wrote a bit about them here.)

Some were made for tourists  in the 1940's and 50's, when the development of interstate highways and motels made road trips a favorite American past-time. Most are from the western states.

Cabins and lakes were a favorite subject. This one is pretty typical.

Many are of mountains.
I inherited my Dad's collection and have hung most of them in our Catskills house.

The oldest ones I have are of the Cliff House in San Francisco. 

They are probably from the late 19th century.

I've sold a few on Etsy, and through there met a collector, E.G., who loves them as much as my Dad did. This is a picture of the oldest one in his collection--it's from 1895, and it is a beauty.

From unknown Arkansas historical collection.

E.G. sent me this picture from a World War II Japanese internment camp--they are sawing a log to make wood slices for paintings. Seeing it added a new dimension to the paintings for me.

There's not much information about them, even on the internet, but E.G. hopes to write a book about them. He was told they were a German tradition from the Black Forest, where they are known for elaborate carved plaques. He is a photographer, so could take pictures for the book.

Desert paintings are rare. Here is a desert painting from E.G.'s collection.

My Dad only had one of the desert.

 Some look like they were done by Sunday painters, not for tourists.

I view them as folk art.

 They are sweet little slices of history. Souvenirs, memories...

 I have had so much trouble with the new templates (see Comments), I've reverted to the old one. Sorry for any frustration this may have caused!

Hope you have a great weekend--I will be cleaning out the store.

Jen

cottages and roses, Yountville

In late spring there are dozens of rose-laden cottages in the little town of Yountville California in the Napa Valley. My father and stepmother lived there more than 20 years so I was lucky to spend a lot of time in that sweet town that has more good restaurants than most cities. (But my favorite is the taco truck--they put radishes on the veggie taco.) The first picture is actually the verrry famous French Laundry restaurant, not officially a cottage, but cottagish in its demeanor if you know what I mean. Anyway, in May the roses are everywhere.