George Floyd Memorial, 6”x12” Oil
From a Paris window, 6” x 12” Oil
Boone’s shelf, North Carolina, 6”x12” Oil
Italian Town, 6” x 12” Italian town, Oil
Florence, Italy by the Arno, 6”x12”, oil
During the pandemic, I found myself wanting to create paintings close to me: memories of places I have been, windows and parts of the homes of some of my siblings, landscapes of beauty. I also wanted to work small. It felt like if I could use small canvases, I could have one part of my work and life that was easier to control. Using the small canvases I could sit at my artist table. I did not use the easel. For some reason that felt more intimate, more up close. During 2020 and 2021 I made what turned out to be the collection you will see.. A few are not for sale. I will send these to the sister and brother whose windows and shelves I created from photographs. My work during this time was in an effort to feel a connection to those I could not visit. The five of us Guyton brothers and sisters live in four different states. Only now are we planning a reunion in the spring where we can all gather, with our children and grandchildren.
I also painted a tree. I call it the George Floyd Memorial tree for this reason:
On May 27, 2020, The Proud Boys white supremacist group descended on the city of Minneapolis, after the murder of George Floyd and the many protests that followed. Our home is on Washington Avenue, where white men in cars sped up the street, sometimes at 80 mph. One of the men, in a car with no license plates, swerved into, 8th Avenue, over-shooting the turn and smashing into a tree at our building entrance. We had been out keeping the condos on the Washington Avenue side of our building observed and supported. The next day it was clear that the tree could not recover. It was slashed and lying almost flat on the ground. We could remove it in a day or two.
On May 27, 2020, The Proud Boys white supremacist group descended on the city of Minneapolis, after the murder of George Floyd and the many protests that followed. Our home is on Washington Avenue, where white men in cars sped up the street, sometimes at 80 mph. One of the men, in a car with no license plates, swerved into, 8th Avenue, over-shooting the turn and smashing into a tree at our building entrance. We had been out keeping the condos on the Washington Avenue side of our building observed and supported. The next day it was clear that the tree could not recover. It was slashed and lying almost flat on the ground. We could remove it in a day or two.
However, this small, resilient oak began to re reassemble itself. In two weeks it stood upright, still with a gash of vacant space on one side. Over the course of the year, the gash filled with new branches and the tree survived. Acorns now drop from this its branches and dot the median on 8th Avenue.
I believe such the recovery of this tree symbolizes my hope for this country: a healing, a sign that we can reknit or country.
