Books By Patti Liszkay
Available On Amazon
and the sequel, "Hail Mary" https://www.amzn.com/1684334888
Available on Amazon.
This collage-thingy that my daughter would like was my attempt at copying a Paul Klee painting called "Death and the Fire,"
Here's one of my mom's papier-maché-on-wood collage thingies, her interpretation of the dancing gypsy from the opera "Carmen," which she and we subsequently referred to as "Carmen."
It also hasn't helped the preservation of my oeuvre that years ago, back when we had a beautiful angora house bunny named Daisy,
Not that any of my other children have expressed any interest in inheriting it. In fact, none of our offspring have indicated any particular interest in inheriting any of the other objets my mate and I are likely to leave behind, d'art or otherwise.
There is one worldly possession of mine that I do wish one of my children wanted to have:
There's this cityscape of Girard Avenue in Philadelphia, a gift to my father painted by one of his friends, Dr. Goddard (I never knew what his first name was, only that he was Dr. Goddard, pronounced Guh-dar). The painting was the view from Dr. Goddard's window.
Oh, and then there was this picture, which my sister now has, which we called "The Siamese Fighting Fish."
But what neither I nor probably my siblings knew back then was that Siam threw off the monarchy and became Thailand in1939. So, while it’s not unlikely that this picture, which hung among the other art on the walls of my childhood home and is now in my sister’s home – for she loved the Siamese Fighting Fish the way I loved Rigoletto – was given to my father by a friend or grateful patient, the donor was indubitably not the King of Siam.
But back to “Rigoletto,” which now sits at the foot of the stairs because I never could find another place where it fit, nor can I hang it because it would cause problems with the electrical wiring behind the wall, or some such reason.
But, alas, not one of my children wants it. They say the picture frightened them when they were young and they no more like looking at it now than they did then. They say it's those crazy eyes.
(Sigh). Sorry, about that, Rigoletto.