I have a painting over my bed that is made of delicious ice cream colours of soft strawberry pinks, and pistachio greens. I love this painting, and despite having seen it my whole life I still find myself studying it with interest.
It depicts a village at night, the moon has risen and despite the dark there are ladies gossiping outside their little houses, bicyclists, lovers chatting on the church roof and a horse-draw carriage trotting on the road.
In a pond, a mermaid surfaces, surprising a man in a boat. My mother found this painting in the window of a gallery in Paris in the mid 1960’s and fell in love with it. My father bought it and gave it to her as an engagement present when he proposed. It hung in every house we lived in in my childhood, and its warm joyful colours, naive style and cosy sense of village community and an untold story always makes me happy every time I look at it.