Rebecca Tombaugh

The Pandemic has changed me. I used to paint wildly with abandon in full colors of acrylic ink. My brushes were calligraphy pens. I called them “inkings.” But in March, I started painting snow fences. Hundreds of snow fences. Black and white only. I couldn’t paint in color. Then I painted some landscapes. Traditional Chinese ink with a tiny tiny brush. I wasn’t outside doing Plein Aire, I was in my studio (back bedroom) sitting at a table. Hurting, mostly. I painted a falling flag, then birds, then the coring of an apple. It was all realistic, too. I painted a KC ballerina 20+ times and titled them the number of the virus dead on that particular day. That’s been going on for months now. When the leaves changed, I saw bright yellow and that gave me hope, for some reason. So I’ve added yellow to my landscapes. Black and yellow. So that’s who I am today. Who know who I will be tomorrow.

Some facts. I was born, raised, dropped out of school, worked, had babies, had husbands, got fired a couple times, had bad poison ivy, got a GED and then college degree, live in a house, like to bake protest pies, and will likely die in Kansas City.

I feel a duty as an artist to document the time I will in. I’ll try to continue that. With galleries and exhibitions closed, I made my own gallery in my front yard. You are welcome to drive by any time.