51 × 61 cm Acrylic on Canvas - Allow 2 weeks for Framing.
I've always loved Dalmatians, though I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it's because they look like someone got bored halfway through painting them. Maybe it's because they somehow manage to be both elegant and ridiculous at the same time. Whatever the reason, they've occupied a disproportionate amount of real estate in my imagination for years.
I also love dinner.
Not food necessarily, although that's part of it. I love the ritual of dinner. The gathering. The chairs being pulled out. The stories that get told when people finally stop rushing somewhere else. Dinner is one of the few remaining activities that asks nothing of us except that we be present.
This painting is what happens when those two affections collide.
A Dalmatian sitting at a dinner table feels completely absurd until you think about it for a moment. Then it feels obvious. Dogs have mastered something most of us spend years trying to learn. They arrive exactly as they are. No performance. No pretence. No concern for whether they're saying the right thing or wearing the right thing. They're just delighted to have been invited.
And maybe that's what I like about the image.
The dog isn't there because it belongs at the table. It's there because it wants to be. Because dinner, at its best, isn't about status or manners or getting everything right. It's about belonging. It's about making room for one more story, one more chair, one more unexpected guest.
Also, if you've ever owned a dog, you'll know they were going to end up at the table eventually anyway
51 × 61 cm Acrylic on Canvas - Allow 2 weeks for Framing.
I've always loved Dalmatians, though I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it's because they look like someone got bored halfway through painting them. Maybe it's because they somehow manage to be both elegant and ridiculous at the same time. Whatever the reason, they've occupied a disproportionate amount of real estate in my imagination for years.
I also love dinner.
Not food necessarily, although that's part of it. I love the ritual of dinner. The gathering. The chairs being pulled out. The stories that get told when people finally stop rushing somewhere else. Dinner is one of the few remaining activities that asks nothing of us except that we be present.
This painting is what happens when those two affections collide.
A Dalmatian sitting at a dinner table feels completely absurd until you think about it for a moment. Then it feels obvious. Dogs have mastered something most of us spend years trying to learn. They arrive exactly as they are. No performance. No pretence. No concern for whether they're saying the right thing or wearing the right thing. They're just delighted to have been invited.
And maybe that's what I like about the image.
The dog isn't there because it belongs at the table. It's there because it wants to be. Because dinner, at its best, isn't about status or manners or getting everything right. It's about belonging. It's about making room for one more story, one more chair, one more unexpected guest.
Also, if you've ever owned a dog, you'll know they were going to end up at the table eventually anyway
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