11”x 14”
acrylic on hardboard
My
son hates getting his hair cut. Even to
this day I have to trick him into the car, usually mentioning someplace he
wants to go, leaving out where our first stop would be (to get a haircut). He refers to it as, “The dreaded left.” This
is because we turn left into the parking lot.
The only thing he hates more is going to my father’s barber. This is in a traditional barber shop in an
older part of town. This barber has cut
three generations of my families hair.
You won’t find a television blasting sports news there, and instead of
waiting minutes, its usually an hour or longer to get the full barber
experience. This is a painting of my
son’s first traditional barbershop experience.
Years later, his expression is still the same. Maybe one day I’ll paint his younger
brother’s first time there, he cried the entire time his hair was being
cut.
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