Painting: Oil on Wood Panel.

Painted: 2020

Size: 32” x 24”

Owner: Personal Collection

Music Selection: “Mary Janes Last Dance” by Tom Petty

When I was growing up, frequently on Friday night my cousins, uncles, and aunts would gather together at my Uncle Carl’s house and the jam session would begin. This hootenanny would go late into the night. My uncles would laugh and regale the humor and pain of their childhood. This was more than a chance to play music, it was a bonding of brothers. My mom and aunts would gather in the kitchen and solve the problems of the world and discuss Hollywood gossip, fashion, and the latest hair styles. The kids would play endless games of kickball, board games, and hide and seek. The living room was filled with a haze of cigarette smoke. The blue atmosphere was so thick you could cut it with a knife. There was an endless flow of black coffee that keep the party moving forward. I can still smell the fresh percolated coffee and hear the boisterous laughter. Eventually all my uncles would move away from where they were raised, and those hootenannies would end. This happened when I was about ten years old, and that wonderful part of my life slipped away. Too bad we have to grow up.

Shortly after my grandfather died, my uncles were once again gathered together. The mood was somber. It was the last time they would play music together. One of my uncles called this last gathering the “The Pecos Valley Reunion.” My grandfather had dementia before he passed away, and when one of the uncles, from California, came to visit him, in the old folks home, my grandmother asked grandpa if he recognized his visitor. My grandfather’s reply was, “If he ain’t a Spencer he ain’t shit.” You guessed it, this was printed on the memorial tee shirts. This painting commemorates the moment when brothers could sing, laugh, and cry and once again bond. All my uncles are dead now and my father is the only survivor. This is a memory that I cherished. It is one of the few personal paintings that I created. The background is not chaotic because my childhood was very stable. My parents grew up during the depression and were very poor, so they gave me everything they were denied. The background is a reference to my Uncle Carl’s living room where the music came to life. Yes… my uncle had carpet on the floor. I just wanted to paint a wooden floor to capture the environment they grew up in, and to see if I could. The piano was a central part of Uncle Carl’s living room. Many of my cousins learned to play piano on that old upright. My uncles are all dead now, and the music they played died with them, but the memories are still alive in my mind. Can you hear the music? Can you smell the coffee? Can you feel the love of brothers that depended upon each other growing up? My family