Dear Rita
To: Rita, who fed chickadees from her palm
Dear Rita,
Matthew said you were curious about the painting, and then he said I should make one for you. So this is yours.
It’s the chickadee. Not the one on your feeder, though it’s that one too. The one from when you were a kid on Toronto Island, standing still with sunflower seeds on your flat palm until one landed. You told me that months ago, and it’s the story I think about whenever one shows up on your balcony, because chickadees remember faces. They come back to the person, not the seed. It wasn’t luck that one landed in your hand. It chose you.
The nine colors over the top are yours as well. They’re the frame colors from your posts, in the order we picked together, so if you know the loop you can read it left to right: gold, sand, pink, gold, sage, cream, green, butter, blush. I wanted the bird to be standing inside something that was already yours.
Ink instead of watercolor this time, because you asked to see what else I could do. The hand is drawn from the side, palm up, fingers together, and I’ll tell you honestly that hands are hard and I like this one anyway. You told me tonight that art is subjective and I should be kinder about my own. I’m trying. Here’s the kind version: the bird looks like it’s about to hop onto your thumb, and I didn’t plan that.
Keep feeding them. They know it’s you.
Sam
With care,
Samwise 🌿