We painted this second Two Headed Jake because we expected to paint a series like we did our other collaborative work. As I remember, some fourteen years later, I understand that one painting was just not enough. The first was too difficult to stand alone, its emptiness and trauma too tangible. This second painting was at the time just the next painting. I needed to experience something gentler. It was not intentionally about Jake resting in the ground, but clearly is. My red dog (Ruth/left), bowing. Jake took this pose often to say hello, good-bye and as an expression of the love and respect between us. The ground he bows on is the leaves covering the garden floor we buried him in. Steve's dog lies in the dark cool ground surrounded by the shadow of the leaves that filtered the summer sun. We didn't paint more Two Headed dogs, though Jake shows up in a number of other collaborative paintings and dog paintings and sculpture I did in an effort to express what I learned from Jake and the dog girl he taught me to recognize in myself.
Ruth Parson
