This work is one of several studies for an oil painting, "Theo". This version is wax pencil on a cropped photocopy from a study for "Redheads". The shadow over Theo's upturned eyes looked to me like the shadow wings of a crow flying overhead. In my iconography, crows bring news of death. Young Theo witnesses the warning that she will lose the protection from harm that had been promised between the children. Theo and Johnny lost their mother when they were all quite young, leaving them and their grieving father to live and be raised with the family of aunts and uncles in the big house above the hilly streets of Seattle.
Theo has lived well and long. I first remember her as a stunning TWA flight attendant in her early twenties. She stayed with us for a while when moving to San Francisco from Seattle. She slept on the fold-away couch in the living room. I surely missed her when she left us for her own place. We certainly didn't see very much of her after this stay. Theo was the most glamorous woman I had ever seen in real life, flying all around the world, as far as I could tell. She always seemed to arrive after dark, shedding her crisp navy blue suit, placing her perfectly designed hat near her impossibly sophisticated two-tone pumps, keeping them safe from any flow of traffic which might cross through her makeshift room. She dressed for the night in cotton pajamas that looked just as perfect as her suit. Clearly of the caliber you'd find any film star wearing. Theo's face shone with fun. She wore her blonde hair cropped and her body was petite and trim, light enough to work on a plane flying through the air.
One night when she was sleeping in the living room, I dreamed that gigantic dinosaurs were flying over the house, they were angry and hungry. They knew we were inside and soared overhead looking for a way to get to us. I clearly see the texture of their skin, feel the heat of them, and fear their sharp and yellow talons and the huge black shadows that fall over the house as they circle back around toward us. I tremble with fear and panic when their shadows pass overhead blackening the daylight. Terrified, I remember, in my dream that Theo is with us, sleeping near the plate glass windows that looked out onto the patio in the backyard.
I was so afraid they would find and kill her first. As frightened as I was, I ran out to warn her. But, Theo was so brave, she wasn't at all afraid, she gathered us, the children, into the center of our house and comforted our huddled fears. She assured us that the dinosaurs could never find us if we were very still and quiet. It was true, she was right, they flew away, and did not come back. It was with incredible relief that I found her in the morning light, still beautiful, full of fun and freedom.
Not too long after this time, Theo returned to Seattle to raise her family and work at the University of Washington for many decades. She has been too energetic to fully retire. She takes courses at the University and continues to travel broadly with her husband and friends. Theo meets her children and grandchildren at Lake Chelan every summer; her voice and face still carries the joy and liveliness I loved in her all those years ago.
