This morning the front page of the Washington Post's Travel section resurrected a memory from my childhood. An article on Depression era artwork in post offices featured a photo of a mural by Anton Refregier.
Refregier was a Woodstock artist and friend of my parents. I own many of his works. He was always an object of some fascination to me as he spent his summers, in the middle of the Cold War, in the Soviet Union. I never could understand this, but I had some notion that he was some sort of communist. Well, he was until his son died in a motorcycle accident.
After that, his artwork was filled with images of God, Christ, and the Holy Spirit--and grief. One particularly touching print is in my daughter's room. In pastel colors and simple lines, the silk screen shows a large hand extending out to protect a young girl holding a daisy.
My daughter, when she turned 10, covered it with a poster of Harry Potter.
Above is one of woodblock prints in my collection. Everything I "own" were gifts to my parents.